


Whumptober 2019

by Emily_F6



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Irondad, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-09 11:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 58,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20852852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_F6/pseuds/Emily_F6
Summary: A collection of 2019 Whumptober prompts posted on Tumblr.





	1. Shaky Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Whumptober 2019!! I can't promise that I'll do every single prompt but I'm going to do my best!!

It was a problem that had started about a month ago...not that it was a problem. Not exactly. At least, not one that May or Mr. Stark needed to know about. Mr. Stark would say it was PTSD. Or something to do with the soul stone or that final battle or...something. Something big.

And it wasn't anything big. It was small. Small and insignificant.

His hands shook.

Not all the time. Not constantly. Just sometimes. Like when he was doing his school work in his room, fingers gripping his pen carefully as he struggled to write answers on a worksheet for English...except the letters would come out shaky and slanted. Or when he was trying to text MJ or Ned and he would miss letter after letter, growing more and more frustrated and anxious until he would have to just put the phone down.

Sometimes he would take a deep breath and try again. Sometimes he would move away from his phone very deliberately so as not to scream and throw it across the room. Because he didn't have another phone and May was working overtime and sometimes, he knew, Happy would buy them dinner.

He shoved those thoughts down on patrol. Shoved down the nausea he felt when he saw his suit, and how sick he felt when thoughts of that battle came to him...being surrounded by monsters on all sides, feeling himself disappear under them as his suit worked to protect him. Shoved down the pang in his chest he'd felt when he had met Morgan.

Morgan was sweet and cute and smart...and she was Tony's kid. His real kid.

And where did that leave Peter!?

He shoved that question down too, focusing only on his patrols and school. Throwing himself into these things, and all the while, his hands shook.

It came to a head in Physics on the first day of October. Sitting between Ned and Flash, the room filled with familiar and unfamiliar faces, he stared down at his quiz, knowing all of the answers. Knowing how to work out the problem. But his hands shook, some strange buzzing taking over his whole body until his chest was tight and his breathing was getting shorter.

It hurt. Everything hurt.

Half of his stuff was still in boxes.

He couldn't find some of his LEGO sets.

Mr. Stark has a daughter and no one else was having trouble moving forward and he...he…

He was crying in the middle of class.

It was like he was in a teen movie, one of the bad ones that came on TV sometimes. He was crying. Not quiet crying that could be easily hidden, tears wiped away so that he could continue his quiz. No. This was sobbing, breaths coming in heaving gasps as he fought to breathe, dropping his head into his hands.

"Parker?" Flash's voice was surprisingly soft. Almost gentle. "You alright?"

He shook his head, standing and leaving his backpack on the ground and racing out of the room, ignoring Ned's voice calling after him. He had to get out. He had to get out or...or...his spider senses were going crazy and he couldn't breathe and something terrible was going to happen! Something...something so bad...something worse than Thanos, and he couldn't...he couldn't cope with it. He couldn't save anyone because he couldn't even save himself and he was so afraid and his hands were shaking.

He ran until he was in an unfamiliar part of the city, curled up in an alley, hands shaking as he stared down at them, willing them to stop. All around him he could hear voices. Loud and soft voices, all mixing and overwhelming him, and he knew that he needed to get up. To call May, who had surely gotten a call from the school, and apologize. Apologize for scaring her and for making everything harder for her.

She'd be better off, he knew. Better off without him.

His hands were shaking, and so was the rest of him.

Peter hid his face in his knees, lips pressed together as he sobbed into his legs, whole body shaking. He didn't know where to go. Didn't know what to do. He couldn't go back to his apartment with the boxes and his possibly missing stuff. He couldn't go back to school where he'd just made a huge idiot of himself...where he felt like he was going to scream or cry or...or lose it like he had earlier. In front of his whole class. How could he ever go back? Even Flash had sounded like he felt sorry for him.

There were footsteps all around him. People passing on the street, no one even sparing him a glance. That's what he told himself. No one could see him. No one saw him. He was in the back of an alley, feeling like his heart was racing out of his chest. Alone. He was alone.

And then there were different footsteps. Footsteps that he was very familiar with. But he couldn't look up. Couldn't face anyone. Couldn't even breathe right. Someone was standing in front of him, and then someone was touching him...and it was like he was disappearing again. His whole body shaking and disintegrating and he screamed without meaning to, jerking away from the hand on his shoulder.

"Peter." The familiar voice whispered, and he forced his eyes open, looking up at Mr. Stark who was kneeling in front of him, concern and something close to fear on his face. "Hey, buddy. It's me. It's Tony."

Tony. Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark ho wanted him to talk to someone, who had a family, who had a daughter...who had saved all of his stuff in boxes and who didn't live in the city anymore. His hands were shaking and he was sobbing into his legs and the man scooted a little closer. "Would it be okay if I touched you?"

He didn't know how to answer, so he just nodded a little, and a large, warm hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Hey, kiddo. Are you hurt?"

Peter shook his head.

"Okay. Good." The man shifted, moving to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and Peter couldn't fight it anymore. He let out a whimper, hiding his face in the man's chest, his whole body heaving with the sobs. "Just breathe, Pete. You're okay. I've got you. I'm right here." He whispered the words in the same way he might talk to his daughter...but Peter wasn't really his, and that thought only made it hurt more.

Peter cried for what felt like too long, but Mr. Stark didn't ask him to move or get up. Instead, he just held him. Finally, Peter got up the courage to speak. "I don't want to be here." He sobbed, and the man beside him went stiff for a moment.

"What do you mean, kiddo?"

"I...everything's different and May...and you...the whole world is different and I...I don't belong here. I don't want to be here! I can't find my LEGO sets and...and one of my jackets is missing and...and my hands are shaking and I can't make them stop!"

Mr. Stark was quiet for a moment, a hand rubbing over his back. "Buddy…" He whispered, sounding so sad that Peter felt himself start to cry even harder. "Oh, Pete…" He shook his head, and Mr. Stark pulled him even closer, his chin resting on top of his hair. He held him close, the two of them rocking back and forth in that alley...and then Peter was finally able to make himself stop, taking a deep shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, buddy."

"I know you're busy." Busy with his new home and his new wife and his new daughter...none of which were actually new. Only new to Peter.

"I'm never too busy for you." He murmured, patting his back. "You know that, right? I'm always here for you." Peter made a face, unable to help it, and Mr. Stark gripped his shoulder, moving their faces closer together. "Peter. I'm always here for you. Always. If you need to talk, you have my phone number."

"I just...I didn't want to...I know you have a daughter now and…"

"Peter, buddy...you're…" He shook his head, closing his eyes for a second. "This is my fault. I should have been more clear...Peter...Pete, I'm…" He took another deep breath. "I love you, kiddo. So much. I just...I didn't want to push when you first got back. But you're my kid...as far as I'm concerned. Just like Morgan. And...and when she was born, all I could think of was how...how much you would love her. What an amazing brother you would be to her." Peter closed his eyes, squeezing his shaking hands into fists. "I tried...I tried everything I could think of to get you back. And then...then, when I figured it out after the others came and proposed time travel...like…" He gave a sad, pained laugh. "Like I hadn't already thought of that. But then...then you came back. Everybody did. And…." He swore under his breath, "I was just so happy to get you back, but I didn't know how…"

At this point, his voice broke, and Peter took a deep breath of Mr. Stark's cologne. It was the same as before...the same cologne, the same feeling, being held in his arms. The same man. The same love. And Peter wondered how he could have stayed away this long. How he could have kept pushing through this terrible pain when Mr. Stark made it so much better.

"I love you too," Peter whispered. "I missed you." Not when he'd been gone. Blipped. Whatever. (Mr. Stark hated that term...thought it was stupid, and Peter wanted to smile a little at that thought.) He'd missed Mr. Stark for the last few weeks...since he'd come back. Since that battle had been over and then he'd been with May and then...then he had seen Mr. Stark with his family and had felt like an imposter. An interloper.

"I missed you...so much, Peter. God, kid...I...am so glad that you're back." He leaned back a little, placing a hand on Peter's cheek. "You're okay. You're going to be okay. I've got you, Pete." Peter nodded, wiping a shaking hand over his face. "I've always got you." After a moment, he reached down, taking Peter's shaking hand into his own. "How long has this been going on?"

"Like...a month. Off and on." Peter told him, sniffling.

"Alright. How about we get in the car and head to the compound, huh? I think Bruce is still there. He can take a look. We'll try to figure out what's going on."

Peter nodded. "Um...I kind of ran out of class and…"

"Yeah, I know. May called me." He stood, reaching out and pulling Peter with him. Peter grinned, leaning against Mr. Stark for a moment.

Of course, she had. May always knew.


	2. Explosion

Tony got the call at 3 am. Usually, he would be in the lab at 3am, and would have Friday ignoring all calls that weren't from Pepper or Rhodey. But then a fifteen-year-old had nearly gotten himself killed while saving his plane full of Avengers technology a few months ago, so Peter Parker had been added to that list. Not that Peter had ever called him at 3 am before. Or...well...at any time. He still sent all of his reports to Happy, despite the fact that Tony had given the kid his personal number and had invited him over to the compound twice to tinker in the lab and just kind of hang out.

He'd even considered buying the tower back...the compound was pretty far from the city, and Tony knew it was a long ride for Peter.

This morning, however, the call woke him. Beside him, Pepper groaned and rolled over while he stared blearily at his cellphone screen. Peter Parker. Groaning himself, he thought about ignoring the call. Telling the kid that he had been sleeping...then Peter would apologize a thousand times and he could assure him that he was fine and that he was sorry for missing his call and everything would be fine.

The call went to voicemail and he dropped his head back onto the pillow, feeling himself slip back into sleep, his eyes falling shut. He was so, so tired...his brain felt fuzzy and…

And then his phone was ringing again.

He practically jolted upright, staring down at the phone. Peter Parker. Again. He hit the answer button, slipping out of bed and leaving the room so he wouldn't wake Pepper. "Pete? What's up, kiddo? Shouldn't you be in bed?" He asked, keeping his voice down until he was out in the hallway. Tony tried to sound friendly...hoping that Peter didn't think that he was angry.

When Peter answered, Tony knew immediately that something was wrong. "Mr...Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah, buddy. What's up?" He asked, voice gentle, praying that it was something simple. Something like a fight with a friend or difficult homework.

"Um...I...I'm sorry to wake you. I just...I...I messed up."

"Yeah?" He asked, rubbing his eyes and grabbing a pair of pants that he'd slung over a chair. Peter sounded terrified and all that Tony knew was that he had to fix this. Whatever it took. "That's okay, buddy. We all mess up sometimes. What's going on?" He asked, forcing his voice to be light. Friendly. He couldn't let Peter know how scared he was. Because if this was like the ferry thing, he wasn't going to blow up again. He wasn't going to push the kid away.

"I…" There was a noise, and then he was back. "Someone knows who I am."

Tony stepped into the elevator, Friday taking him quickly down to the lab. "Okay. That's okay, Pete. We'll figure it out. Where are you?"

The boy hesitated. "You...you have to find me."

"Weird time for a game of hide and seek but okay," Tony said, trying to tamp down his anxiety and make a joke to distract himself from how freaked out he was. Peter was afraid, so he had to be calm. "You wanna give me a hint?"

"I have to tell you the rules."

He felt himself go cold, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a second. But he had to be calm. For Peter. "What am I famous for but being a huge fan of rules, huh, Pete? Whose rules are they?" He asked, forcing a lightness he didn't feel into his voice.

Silence. And then, the kid whispered an answer. "I can't tell you." Tony closed his eyes, taking another deep breath. Hands shaking. Blood suddenly rushing too loudly through his veins. Someone had Peter. Someone was making him say this.

"Alright. That's okay, Pete. Just hit me with those rules, huh?" The suit had already enveloped him, and he was shooting out the side door to the tower, the call transferring to his suit as Friday began to look for Peter. His suit tracker was damaged, but it was still emitting a weak signal...Friday just had to trace it.

"You can't bring anyone else."

"Okay. Got it."

"If you try to cut the straps, it'll explode."

Tony's heart seemed to stop in his chest. "What?"

"If you try…"

"I heard you. What will explode?" He demanded, shooting off toward the tiny dot in his helmet's screen, leading him to Peter.

"The bomb," Peter whispered. "He...he says that…" The boy's words cut out and he grunted as if in pain.

"Peter! Peter, what bomb!"

"He says you have to play the game if you want to win." Peter half sobbed, and Tony swallowed hard, swearing that he was going to kill whoever was doing this to his kid.

"Fine. I'll play the game. Whatever. What's the game?"

"You have to disarm it." He told him. "The video...it's going to broadcast…to every channel..."

"It's, like, three in the morning, so I doubt very many people are going to see it but okay."

The kid gave a short, pained laugh. "That's what I told him."

Tony forced himself to smile a little. "You know what they say about great minds." The boy snorted a little, and Tony directed more power to his thrusters. "Are those all the rules?"

"He says you have six minutes."

And then the call cut off.

Tony's entire body felt cold, and he felt like he was falling. But no. He was flying. Flying in his suit. He couldn't afford to freak out. Not now. Not yet. Not until Peter was safe and in his arms and far away from any bombs.

It took him two minutes to reach the boy. Two minutes to fly to the top floor of an empty factory by the water, crashing through a window and landing in a crouch, looking around to find whoever had his kid.

The kid. Not his kid.

He spotted Peter immediately in the dim light, a camera set up on a tripod pointed his way, and he aimed a repulsor at it.

"Don't." Peter cried before he could shoot it, and he glanced over at the boy. "You can't! He's watching!"

Tony lowered his repulsor and hurried over to the kid, faceplate flipping upwards, forgetting about the camera for the moment. "Who's watching?" He demanded, giving the kid a once-over. Peter's face was black and blue, his lips were swollen, a cut over his forehead was dripping blood, and his eyes were wide and afraid. But it wasn't his face that Tony couldn't stop staring at. It was the metal box strapped to his chest. The huge metal box with wires and a leather strap around his chest, a clock telling him in blue numbers that he only had four minutes.

"I'm sorry…" Peter dropped his head, sobbing into his chest...into the huge box strapped to his chest with thick straps...the huge box that was beeping. "Mr. Stark...I'm sorry...I shouldn't have called you. I should have just let him..."

"Shut up." Tony barked, not meaning to snap at the kid but not able to keep his voice even anymore. Not while the kid had a bomb strapped to his chest.

"He...he was here…" Peter hiccuped. "He said he'd shoot...shoot me if...if I didn't call you. He had a gun...but you have to go! It's...it's going to blow up…"

"I'm not going anywhere, Pete, now hush." He stared at the bomb, eyes raking over the wires sticking haphazardly out of the box. Out of the bomb. He couldn't think about who it was attached to. Couldn't wonder how this guy had gotten the jump on Peter. Right now, all he could let himself think about was the bomb strapped to his kid's chest.

"He wanted to kill both of us at the same time. He's watching and he said...said that…"

"Pete...buddy...you've gotta stop, okay. I'm going to get you out of this. But you've got to let me focus." He urged, placing a quick hand on Peter's knee and squeezing to soften the statement. "Who did this?"

"He said the Vulture sent him…"

"Yeah, okay...well I'm going to kill the Vulture and every one of his henchmen later, but right now, I'm going to get you out of this."

The blue numbers told him that he had three minutes and he swore again, staring blankly at the wires. He didn't know. He truly didn't know.

Peter was quiet for another thirty seconds, possibly a record. But just as Tony was trying to trace the wires to the box, he spoke again, his voice just barely over a whisper. "You can go."

"Peter…". He started, unable to help the frustration in his voice, but Peter didn't stop.

"There's no reason for you to die too." The kid murmured, sounding resigned and so afraid. So, so afraid.

"Friday, scan this shit and tell me what to do. And you, cut it out. No one is going to die!" He snapped, promising himself that he'd apologize to Peter later. He'd buy the boy ice cream and they'd hang out and Peter would forget all about this.

Any alternative was too unbearable to think about.

"Can you tell May…"

"No! We're not doing last words, Peter! Now shut…"

"Please…". Peter sobbed, his whole body trembling as the tears trickled from his swollen eyes. "Please, Mr. Stark...she has to know…". His words cut off as he cried, and Tony spared a second to place a hand on his head.

"I'll tell her. I'll tell her that you love her, but you aren't going to die. I won't let you. I'm Tony Stark, Pete. I always get what I want."

What a blatant lie.

The numbers were still counting down. Two minutes. Then less. His heart was racing and he didn't know which wire to cut and that camera was recording and he had no idea if cutting the strap would actually cause the bomb to go off but he also knew that he didn't have a lot of time left to figure it out.

Peter was sitting on a metal folding chair, lip trembling, tears running down his cheeks, hands shaking and looking smaller than he'd ever looked. Tony had never seen him so afraid. Had never imagined that he would be in this situation. How had this happened?

He would have to figure it out later.

"I've got you. I'm right here, Pete." He murmured, keeping his hand on Peter's knee and lifting a hesitant hand to one of the wires.

"You have to go."

"No."

"I don't want you to die too." His voice had hardened into something too serious and too old for the boy sitting in front of him. "You can go. I'm okay."

The kid was not okay. But he would be.

"Shut. Up. Peter." He bit out, reaching for the yellow wire. Was the yellow wire right? "Friday?"

"I'm sorry boss…" He didn't listen to the rest of the message, just held out his gauntlet. There was one main strap, wrapping around the boy's chest, and another around his shoulders like a vest.

"I need you to listen to me, Peter. Okay?"

Twenty seconds.

"Please go." Peter whimpered, sounding so young and so afraid that Tony thought he might throw up.

No. No fucking way.

"Listen to me." He whispered, leaning in so that his chin was on Peter's shoulder...like a hug goodbye. Please let whoever was watching think that it was a hug goodbye. "When I say now, you rip the straps on your arms and close your eyes." He grabbed Peter's hand and placed them on the straps.

"Tony grabbed the strap wrapped around his chest, turning his repulser all the way up, knowing that this was stupid but not caring. It was his last chance.

"But it'll make the…"

Five seconds.

"Now!"

Peter did as he was told for once, and Tony ripped the strap around his chest, his repulsors practically melting the leather. Then, he grabbed the bomb and threw it across the room before wrapping his arms around Peter and throwing the both of them to the floor as far away from the bomb as he could get.

The explosion was almost immediate.

Tony placed his hand on the back of Peter's head, hiding the boy's face in his chest plate. The whole building trembled as a wave of white-hot fire slammed into his back and sent them skidding across the room. The suit filtered out most of the heat and noise, and he prayed that it had protected Peter too. That his own suit covered body wrapped around Peter's had protected him from the heat and the flames and the wave of energy that had knocked them across the room and almost to the glass windows that had been blown out.

His ears were ringing, and the world around him was almost silent, other than the fire alarm that was blaring somewhere in the distance. The sprinklers were going off, water pattering down on his suit and making puddles around him, and still, he held the boy in his arms, unable to make himself let go. He waited for a few long minutes, hands pressed against Peter's head and back, rocking the both of them back and forth on the floor. Peter had to be okay. He had to. But for a moment, he was too afraid to check.

He had to check.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and flipped his faceplate up, wincing at the smoke that burned his lungs. The room was almost unbearably hot, and the water that poured from the sprinklers was ice cold. Practically underneath him, the kid was absolutely still.

"Pete?" He asked, voice coming out raspy and weak. "Kiddo?" He pulled away just a little to look down at the boy. In the distance, he could hear sirens, and he knew that rescue teams were coming. He needed to get Peter out of there before they got there. Before anyone else found out who he was. They were in enough trouble as it was.

Peter's eyes were shut tight, his hands clutching at Tony's armor, breaths coming in short, painful gasps. Alive. He was alive. When Tony called his name, Peter opened them, looking up at him with glassy, still frightened eyes, and he felt his heart clench. The kid looked like he was in shock, pupils blown wide as he seemed to struggle to focus on the man holding him. Tony sat up, helping Peter do the same, gathering his kid in his arms and forgetting all about that time in the car. About when he'd told Peter that they weren't there yet.

They were there.

Peter clung to him, pressing his forehead to his shoulder and letting out a broken sob.

"Hey, buddy. You're okay. You're fine." Tony whispered, not sure if he was talking to Peter or himself.

"You didn't leave." Peter whimpered, and Tony shook his head.

"Of course I didn't leave. I'd never leave you, Pete."


	3. Delirium

It didn’t make sense that Ben was in front of him. 

Peter blinked a few times, reaching out a hand for him and feeling his world tilt. 

Was he standing up?

Yeah. Yeah, he was walking, feet tangling, his shoulder running into what felt like a rough wall. Brick. Brick wall. “Ben?” He asked, reaching out for him and feeling himself tip forward. Suddenly, his hands were pressed to the concrete, his knees digging into the ground. It hurt in a vague, absent way. And his head. His head hurt. The world felt like it was swimming around him and he could taste blood...but Ben was smiling, crouching in front of him.

“Hey, Peter.” Only his uncle could say his name like that. So gentle, and so loving. A hand outstretched but not touching him.

Peter couldn’t hold his head up anymore and let it drop, staring at the ground...at the colors in the puddle below him. 

It was raining.

He was cold.

He hadn’t noticed that he was cold, but the whole world was moving so fast that maybe it wasn’t important. Maybe...maybe he was actually hot. His hands were bare...bare flesh pressed into tiny pebbles on the concrete. And something else. Something sharp. He pulled his hand up and stared at it, immediately losing his balance and crashing sideways into the ground.

His hand was bleeding, and now his cheek was pressed to the concrete. The blood ran down his wavy hand, moving in strange patterns as his uncle watched. 

“Ben?”

“I’m here, Peter. Right here.” A hand outstretched but not touching him. He wanted his uncle to touch him. How long had it been since someone had touched him without hurting him?

His hands were bloody. It was caked under his nails and had splattered on his arms. 

He’d killed someone.

The knowledge should have been distressing but he didn’t feel distressed. He just felt...hot. So hot. And something hurt…something far away. His head? No, that wasn’t the worst. No...it was his hip. The back of his hip. And his leg. Something was wrong with his leg. Not that it mattered.

He was cold. 

“Peter!” The scream surprised him, but his uncle didn’t move. Just knelt there, reaching out...and then touching him. A hand on his arm, gentle. “Peter?” Ben asked, louder this time.

“Ben?” He smiled at his uncle, reaching out an aching arm for the man who caught his hand instantly. There were other people...a woman, and another man, but he didn’t care. 

“Tony, he’s burning up!” The woman cried.

“Ben...I missed you.” He half sobbed, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to cry. “I want you to come back!”

“I’m here, Pete. Don’t cry, buddy. I’ve got you. Sam?”

“There’s something in his system...they had him on some heavy stuff.”

“We need to get him to the compound before he crashes.” The woman said.

Peter didn’t know what that meant, but a hand pressed against the back of his hip as someone tried to lift him and he screamed, throwing his head back, barely aware that he was doing it. The pain had come back, sharply in focus, and he sobbed and thrashed as he was lowered back into the ground.

Suddenly it wasn’t Ben beside him anymore. It was the man...the one with the white coat who had stuck a needle into his back and...and...something about drugs. Something...he’d been with that man for a long time and...and now he wasn’t? Or was he? Where was Ben?

The man’s voice turned suddenly frantic as he set him back down, careful not to let him land on that sore spot. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Pete. Hold on, buddy. Let me take a look, okay?” 

Someone said something about bone marrow but he didn’t understand. “Don’t...please don’t hurt me anymore!” Peter sobbed, closing his eyes. He hadn’t begged at first, he remembered. He’d lasted a long time...and had been briefly proud. 

Now he just wanted it to be over. 

“I won’t. Nobody’s going to hurt you. You’re safe now, buddy. I’ve got you.” 

Ben was back. He stared through the hazy world at his uncle and reached for him with bloody hands, and the man gripped his hand and squeezed while someone lifted the back of his shirt and swore. 

There were more words. Words about bones and infection and a fever, and all throughout it, he gripped the man’s hand. “Ben...don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me, Ben.” He pleaded, his voice a slurred whisper.

“I won’t. I’m not leaving you. We’re going to get you home. I have to pick you up, and it might hurt, but I’ll be careful. Okay?” 

Peter nodded. Ben wouldn’t hurt him. Ben would never let anyone hurt him. He hid his face in his uncle’s shoulder, trying not to cry out when he was lifted. The man’s skin was cold and smooth, and he blinked up at him for just a moment. Everything was so hazy, and the cold felt nice against his hot skin.

But...his uncle didn’t look like that. His vision wavered, and he blinked a few times as they moved, lifting a weak hand to touch the man’s face. His uncle flinched a little, and he could feel the man frowning. A beard was scratchy under his hand...but his uncle didn’t have a beard.

“Mr. Stark?” He asked, and the muscles of his face moved into a smile. 

“Yeah, Pete. It’s me. I’ve got you:”

“Where...where did Ben go? He was just here.”

The man’s jaw tightened as he folded himself forward, easing both of them into an enclosed space. “Are you with me, Peter?” He asked, sitting him carefully on his lap and holding him like a child, his arm supporting his back. “Do you know where you are?”

“I...I think...I think I killed someone.” He whispered, then let his head drop against Mr. Stark’s shoulder, feeling the world tilt and then fade to black. 

When Peter slept, he heard voices. They mostly muttered, saying things he couldn’t make out. Questions, sometimes. Things like ‘how is he?’ And ‘how long…?’ But it was hard for him to make those things out. Sometimes he felt so hot that he couldn’t stand it, thrashing and trying to shove the blankets off of him. Other times he shivered and groaned, reaching for them again until someone tucked them under his chin, a hand catching his, a scratchy kiss on his forehead. 

He woke suddenly, without realizing that he’d even done it. He was in bed...a real bed. A familiar bed, in a familiar room. His room. At the tower. Shifting a little, he flinched at the pain in his hip, the thought making him feel like an old person. It was a dull ache in his lower side, and he moved his legs around to the side, pressing his hands into the mattress to keep his weight off of his hip. His legs were a little shaky, but after a moment, he was able to stand, placing a hand against the wall to steady himself. Once standing, he looked around the room, not sure why he had even done it. He had no idea where anyone was. Or why he was there.

As soon as that thought hit him, he froze. Because he did know why he was there. 

The man. The man in a lab coat...the man with needles and the scalpel and the dark room where he’d tied Peter down...Peter’s hand faltered on the wall and he gasped, knees weakening, and suddenly, someone grabbed his arm, taking some of the weight off of his shaky legs. 

“Easy...easy, Underoos. How about you sit back down, huh?” 

Peter closed his eyes, his breath catching in his throat as he was eased back down into bed, flinching and shifting so that the weight wasn’t on his right side. “Sorry.” He muttered, more out of habit than anything.

“You’re okay. Here. Take a drink.” 

He opened his eyes once more and took a sip of the water being held out to him. It felt great on his scratchy, sore throat, and he drank half of the glass before Mr. Stark pulled it away, reminding him to be careful...that he might make himself sick. A hand rested on his shoulder, and Mr. Stark sat beside him on the bed, placing the water back on the table. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m...I think I’m okay.” Peter muttered, eyes downcast. Because he remembered. Remembered his last few moments in that room. Just barely, but still. A hand slipped under his chin, and he looked up at the man reluctantly, afraid of what he would see there.

But Mr. Stark’s eyes were gentle. 

“I...I killed him, didn’t I?” 

The man nodded. “Yeah, buddy. And it’s a good thing because I would have done worse if I’d gotten to him first. He had you so full of drugs you barely knew what you were doing. Your fever was up to 103. He had been torturing you for two days, Pete. I think in this one instance, killing him was justified.”

Peter closed his eyes, resting his head on Mr. Stark’s shoulder. Letting the man hold him. “I don’t feel good.” He muttered. Not wanting to think about it. Not wanting to remember how he’d killed that man. How he’d been tied down and drugged...he shuddered, and Mr. Stark rubbed his back. 

“I know, buddy. Your fever’s still a little high. Why don’t you rest?”

“I didn’t mean to kill him.” 

“I know, Pete. It’s alright. You did what you had to to come home, and I’m glad you did.”

Letting himself take some small comfort in that, Peter let himself go back to sleep.


	4. Human Shield

The house was dark. Dark and slightly cold. It was chilly for early October and Peter kind of wished he had a jacket. Shivering, he had to smile when Mr. Stark reached back and grabbed his arm, pulling him closer. He'd let himself fall a little behind, getting distracted by what looked to be a body bag hanging in the corner.

"Stay close, Underoos." He chided softly. "Wouldn't want to lose you in here. I'd never find you again." Peter grinned, letting himself be pulled to the man's side. "You cold?" He asked, and Peter nodded. Mr. Stark rubbed a hand up and down his arm. "I told you to wear a jacket." He scolded, and Peter rolled his eyes, both of them tensing when, up ahead, Rhodey glanced back at them.

"You two coming or what?" He hissed, and Mr. Stark tugged him forward, the two of them hurrying to catch up. Peter had to duck under a cobweb, dodging another body bag , the bottom stained with red fluid. "Everybody else is already upstairs."

"Take it easy, Platypus. The Spidering is easily distracted."

"Yeah, maybe don't call him that while we're in public." Rhodey hissed, but Mr. Stark just rolled his eyes. "Do you want people to find out…"

The man didn't even let him finish. "Like anyone in here cares what we're saying…"

They all jumped when a woman in a bloodstained white dress screamed, throwing herself against the metal bars over open space to their right. "Fuck!" He cried, placing a hand over his heart, and Peter laughed out loud.

"Language, Mr. Stark! There are kids here!"

"And I have a heart condition." He shot back.

"It was your idea to come here!"

"Uh, no. It was Rhodey's idea. I figured if I had to come, so did you."

"Aww, come on. Aren't you having fun?" Peter whined a little, smiling and squeezing his arm. The man sighed, rolling his eyes in the dark, but his lips turned up a little at the corners. Peter counted that as a victory, both of them following Rhodey through the first floor of the haunted house.

The sudden sound of an angry dog barking make Peter stiffen a little, and he turned with a grin to find an animatronic dog moving forward and backward, slamming against a small plastic door. "You know what you need, Mr. Stark?" He asked, keeping his voice appropriately hushed. A new group had entered behind them and he didn't want to ruin their experience.

"If you say a dog I swear to…"

"A dog! Everyone needs a dog."

"I am not getting you a dog."

"But why?" He whined, turning and walking backward for a moment, then bumping into Rhodey.

He had paused at a corridor where the walls all seemed to be moving, the bright green and black circles moving and spinning, and even the floor seemed to sway back and forth.

"Get a move on, Honey bear. I don't have all night."

"I know for a fact that you do." Rhodey shot back, but took a hesitant step anyway. He managed to walk through, but Peter still balked, closing his eyes at the bright, moving colors and the disorienting feeling they gave him.

"Come on, Pete." Mr. Stark urged, moving past him in the dark and holding a hand out. He gripped it like a lifeline, opening his eyes again and flinching at the sight of the room. "It's not really moving, you know. The floor." Mr. Stark told him casually, and Peter let himself be led, head aching dully. "The pictures on the wall are tricking your brain into thinking that the floor is swaying back and forth, and it makes you want to lean to the side, but you don't have to."

Any other times, he would have haughtily informed Mr. Stark that he knew how optical illusions worked, but his quiet, matter of fact explanation had distracted Peter enough that they'd made it through without him feeling like he had to throw up.

He wanted to thank him, but Mr. Stark just gave his hand a quick squeeze before letting go, and the two followed Rhodey up the stairs and into a room with more body bags and the occasional person to scream and jump out at them. Peter found himself grinning the whole time, especially when Rhodey jumped and screamed when a man dressed like an evil doctor or something lunged at him, screamed about blood and brains or whatever.

He couldn't quite stifle the laughter, and the Colonel shot him a dirty look, but he couldn't hold it for long with Mr. Stark laughing in the background.

The third floor was Peter's favorite up until the end.

There were more jump scares. More people lurking around, ready to jump out at them. More creepy sound effects like static from a TV and angry barking dogs that made Peter suggest twice more that Mr. Stark should get a dog. He'd just started to think that he was wearing him down when his spider-sense sent a jolt up his spine.

And then there was a chainsaw right beside his face.

He screamed. He screamed like a very young girl, voice climbing a few octaves as he grabbed Mr. Stark's arm, using his momentum to spin the man around and grip the back of his shirt, placing the man between him and the chainsaw before he'd even realized what he was doing.

"Did...did you just...use me as a human shield!" Mr. Stark cried, sounding more delighted than he had a right to be, and behind him, Rhodey doubled over, hands on his knees as he laughed.

"I…" He started, shaking his head and peering over his shoulder at the man holding the chainsaw who seemed to be fighting between staying in character and his realization that Tony Stark was standing in front of him, acting as a human shield for a teenage boy while Colonel James Rhodes laughed in the background. "I didn't…"

"I cannot believe you used me as a human shield! Well, I mean, at least now I know where I stand."

"Mr. Stark…" Peter tried, but he wasn't done.

"If we ever get mugged, are you going to throw me at the guy with a gun and run?"

"Mr. Stark…"

"If we're ever attacked by a bear…"

"We're never going to be attacked by a bear!" Peter cried, laughing a little himself now.

"Are you going to offer me up as a sacrifice…"

"Why would we be attacked by a bear?"

"If we're ever in a plane crash…". Mr. Stark began, and Peter rolled his eyes.

"You know what, you can keep him." He told the man with the chainsaw, and Mr. Stark sputtered. "Come on, Rhodey. You have the keys, right?"

"You brat!" Mr. Stark cried with a laugh, reaching out and grabbing at Peter's arm, letting the boy drag him away from the now smiling chainsaw man. "And here I was considering buying you a dog."

"Really!" He cried, following Rhodey into the elevator which would take them to the exit.

"Not anymore."

"Oh come on!" Peter begged, tugging at the man's arm. "Please! I promise to take care of it!"

"I don't believe you and also, you just used me as a literal human shield when you thought we were being attacked by a man with a chainsaw."

"But…"

With that, Mr. Stark strode out of the elevator with a flourish, and Rhodey chuckled, throwing an arm around Peter's shoulder. "Don't worry Pete. He's taking you to the shelter to pick out a dog next week."

"Seriously!"

"Yep. He and May already talked about it. It was supposed to be a Christmas present, but he couldn't wait, so he's going to call it an early Halloween present. Act surprised. Now come on. He wants to take you out for ice cream."

Peter followed his finger to the end of the parking lot where Mr. Stark was waiting for them by the car, a grin on his face, hands shoved in his pockets, looking like there was nowhere he'd rather be. Rhodey squeezed his shoulder with a smile of his own. "Come on you two! We're burning daylight!"

"It's already dark, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah, yeah." The man opened the door for Peter, gesturing for him to climb in. "Let's go get ice cream. I'm starving."

**Thank you for reading!   
(I know it wasn't super whumpy but I wanted some fluff lol)**


	5. Gunpoint

It had been almost a year since the snap that had brought everyone back to life, which was crazy to Tony. Insane. Insane that for a year now, there had been (relative) peace. He was married to the love of his life, the brilliant Pepper Potts-Stark. He had a sweet, also brilliant five-year-old daughter that he loved more than life itself, who was currently holding his hand, skipping alongside him as the two of them made their way to the ice cream shop that was Morgan's favorite.

And he had Peter. Peter was back. It didn't seem possible that Peter was back. Didn't seem possible that he'd returned from the dead after five years. Didn't seem possible that Tony had been given another chance. Another chance to show this kid how much he loved him. How much he cared about Peter...how much he saw the boy as his own kid. His son. Of course, Peter had May, and Tony loved her too. He wanted her to know that he was always there, him and Pepper both, if she ever needed anything, and since everyone had returned, he and Pepper had started donated generously to the homeless shelter where she volunteered, and where Peter sometimes showed up as a 'special guest' in his suit. And as Peter. Just never at the same time.

Tony had worried at first that Peter wouldn't feel like he fit in Tony's new life and had maybe gone just a bit overboard in making sure that he didn't have so much as a single doubt about his place in this new world. He'd decorated a room at the lakehouse right next to Morgan's, making sure his wall was the perfect shade of blue, and making sure that he had all the latest game systems and games and a smart TV and a new laptop complete with Karen. As soon as the kid had been all patched up, he'd had a talk with May, inviting both of them to stay with them until he found an apartment for them, which he'd secretly bought them. (Okay, so he'd bought the whole building.)

The talk had been long and very emotional and had ended with her agreeing to let Peter stay with him on some weekends and holidays, almost like they were negotiating a custody agreement. And Peter had been very obviously surprised. But then Morgan had worked her magic, throwing herself into him and wrapping her arms around his waist and asking if he was her big brother and if he was going to stay.

Tony had cut in before the kid could brush her off, assuring her that yes, this was the big brother he'd been telling her stories about her entire life and that yes, Peter was going to stay with them sometimes.

The talk with Peter had come later, after a particularly bad nightmare and assurances from Peter that he was going to go...that he wouldn't bother Tony anymore. And Tony had gripped him by the shoulders, looking straight into his eyes, both of them in their pajamas. He had told him how important he was, how much Tony had missed him...and how much he loved him. And Peter had cried...Tony might have too. In the end, though, Tony thought he might have gotten through to the boy.

He and Morgan were on their way to meet Peter at the ice cream place. Morgan knew that he was Spiderman, and that he was a superhero, but didn't really understand patrols or his need to guard the city of Queens, and had been upset that he hadn't been around as much since he'd gone back to school and had been patrolling on top of Decathlon practice and his new puppy love romance with the MJ girl. So Tony had proposed they meet in the city for ice cream after Peter was done patrolling. Morgan didn't come to the city much, so the girl was skipping excitedly, pointing out everything they passed, from street signs that she sounded out to the squirrels and pigeons, and everything in between. Chuckling at her excitement, he let her drag him forward a little when they spotted the ice cream parlor.

"Is that it!" She cried, the same question she'd asked every time they'd passed any place that looked like it might sell ice cream.

"That's the one." He agreed, following her inside. Peter hadn't texted to say he was on his way yet, but Tony assumed that he'd be there soon. They'd agreed to meet at 6, right after Morgan's dinner.

The bell over the door rang as they stepped inside, Morgan 'oohing' and 'ahhing' over the entire line of ice cream flavors showing through the little glass divider. "Hi, can I help you?" The teenager working the counter asked, smiling down at Morgan who beamed back at her.

"We're actually waiting for someone. Can I just get 2 waters for now?" He asked, and she nodded, handing over two cups of water, and he led Morgan over to the booth close enough to the door that he could watch for Peter. She climbed into the seat beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her as she drank her water.

"Is Peter coming soon?" She asked, swinging her feet.

"Soon." He promised, starting to pull out his phone. Right as he was opening up a message to send to Peter, the bell above the door chimed again and he looked up with a ready smile, only to freeze when he saw the man in the mask, a gun in his hand. He shot a look at Morgan who had frozen in her seat too, her tiny face solemn, and he pointed at the floor. "Get down, on the floor." He ordered softly, just as the man pointed his gun at the teenager behind the counter.

He didn't have a gauntlet or his nanotech or...or anything. He had nothing to protect himself or, more importantly, Morgan. The little girl did as he asked, slipping under the booth and curling up on the floor, and he started to duck down too when the guy whirled on him, gun pointed right at him. "Get down on the ground." He ordered, voice wild and furious and afraid, and Tony thought about trying to talk to him. Or threatening him.

But he couldn't risk it. Couldn't risk Morgan seeing her father get shot. Couldn't leave his kids. So he nodded, keeping his eyes down as he slid out of the booth, kneeling, then laying on the floor, turning his cheek to the cold ground so that he could smile at his daughter. "It's okay." He mouthed, and she nodded, his brave, brave little girl.

The gunman went back to the cashier, demanding she open up the register and give her all the money. Crying, the girl agreed, promising that she'd do whatever he wanted, and Tony had to fight the urge to grab his phone...to warn Peter.

The bell over the door chimed again, and Tony barely had time to turn his head before he heard a familiar 'thwip' and the very familiar voice. "Hey, man. If you needed money for ice cream, all you had to do was ask." Tony glanced up to find the gun in Peter's hand as he dropped from the ceiling to the floor, landing in an easy crouch. "Also, it says no deadly weapons right on the door. Didn't you see the sticker?"

Tony had to smile, breathing a sigh of relief as he started to sit up.

The gunman wasn't done yet, though, and Peter barely had time to drop the gun and slide it over toward Tony before the man was charging at him, pulling a knife from his boot and slicing wildly. Peter dodged without issue, reaching for it and started to apprehend the guy.

Then Morgan slid out from under the booth. "Peter!" She cried, only to place a hand over her mouth, eyes comically large. Tony reached for her, pulling her into his lap and making sure the gun was on his other side. She clung to him with a whimper, hiding her face in his neck and squeezing him as hard as she could. Distracted, Peter turned toward her, then the huge lenses flinched when the knife sliced through his side. The kid grabbed the man's wrist and he dropped the knife with a cry.

"Rude." Peter snapped, getting him to the ground and webbing his hands together. He looked over at the cashier who was leaning against the back wall, a hand pressed to her mouth, tears streaming down her face, and he waved a little. "Hey. Are you okay?" She nodded. "Think you can call the cops to come and get this guy."

"I got it. You wanna come sit down?" Tony asked, putting the gun on the table and pulling out his phone. The girl nodded, coming out from behind the counter and lowering herself shakily into the booth. "You alright, Spidey?"

"Just a cut. Hi there, little girl I don't know. You okay?"

Morgan giggled through her own tears, nodding and reaching out for him, and without hesitation he reached out for her, pulling her out of Tony's arms. He kept a close eye on his kids and the girl in the booth as he let the police know where he was and that Spiderman had taken care of the only gunman.

Morgan burrowed into Peter's arms, wiping her face, and he kissed her forehead with the mask on, making her giggle again. "I'm sorry I said your name." She whispered.

"It's okay, Morgs. I don't think she's going to tell anyone."

"I won't." The cashier promised, shaking her head frantically. "I won't tell anyone. I promise. You saved my life."

"See. She won't tell."

"Is it my fault you got hurt?" Morgan asked then, sounding like she was afraid of the answer. Peter shook his head.

"No way. And I'm fine. Just a little cut. I promise."

After hanging up the phone, Tony moved over to get a better look at Peter to make sure he hadn't been lying about the 'just a little cut' part. He hadn't, at least, not as far as Tony could tell. He dropped a hand on Peter's shoulder then, pulling both of his kids close for a quick hug. "You okay, Pete?" He asked, lowering his voice a little, and Peter nodded, rocking Morgan back and forth in his arms.

As soon as they heard sirens, Tony led both of his kids out the back door, all of them taking directions from the cashier who told them that they could use the back exit so that the police wouldn't see Spiderman or find out who he was. They took her directions gratefully, and Tony gave her his card, telling her that if she ever needed anything, to call him.

Once they were in the car, complete with tinted windows and Morgan strapped into her booster seat in the back, Tony turned to Peter and grabbed him, pulling him close and putting a hand to the back of his head. "Are you really okay?" He whispered. Peter nodded.

"I'm fine."

"I'm going to take a look at that cut when we get back to the tower."

"Okay."

"Also, we're all staying at the tower tonight, because I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Okay, Mr. Stark."

Tony sighed, closing his eyes and rocking him a little. "I love you so much, kid."

"I love you too."

"Thanks for saving us."

Peter chuckled a little, flushing a little and twisting his mask in his hands. "Anytime."


	6. Dragged Away

Peter closed his eyes, curled up in the corner of the room. It was white. All around him. White walls and a white bench…and a white door. The straight jacket was reinforced, and he had to stifle a sob, his forehead pressed to his knees, arms wrapped around his torso. It hurt, in a dull, achy way. He couldn’t move…didn’t know if he’d be able to stand up if he wanted to. The guards had thrown him into the room, his back slamming into the bench where he assumed he was supposed to sleep and…and…and he was scared.

He was so scared.

He could only remember things in bits and pieces. Mr. Stark had brought him to Germany to help him apprehend Captain America. And then…then he’d gotten knocked out of the sky and…and he had been told to go with Happy. Right?

Then something had struck him in the neck, and he’d only been able to make eye contact with Happy for a few seconds before someone had grabbed his arms, dragging him away. Then everything had gone dark. And…and now…now he was alone. Alone in the plain white room with a white door with no window, he tried to make himself small, wondering where Mr. Stark was. Could the man have let this happen?

He had seemed nice. Not like someone who would let him get dragged away and thrown into a cell. Right? Surely Mr. Stark wouldn’t have told anyone who he was. That’s the only way anyone could have found out. Peter hadn’t told anyone, including his best friend. Or his aunt. He didn’t know how Mr. Stark had found out, but…but the man wouldn’t have told.

Peter tried to shift on the ground, tried to get into a more comfortable position. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t get his arms free, or even move them so that they weren’t so tightly wrapped around his torso, the jacket straps too tight. He’d been unconscious when they’d gotten him into it, and he’d only woken up as he’d been dragged down the corridor, two huge men flanking him, gripping him under the elbow. 

Too disoriented to ask any questions, he’d just let them drop him onto the floor, his head bouncing against the bench and slumping in the corner. 

Why was he here? Was he alone? He couldn’t hear anyone else, but he couldn’t hear anything much at all. He thought the room might be soundproofed, but his brain, and the rest of his body, felt sluggish and weak. 

The door was thrown open after what might have been ten minutes or might have been a hour. The man in white that entered had a needle in his hand, and Peter shrank back, socked feet sliding on the cold floor. He was so, so cold.

The man didn’t speak to him, just grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet, his grip bruising as he held him upright. “Let’s go.” He snapped, and Peter slid beside him, struggling to get his feet under him…but his legs were so weak, his whole body uncoordinated and unresponsive. 

“Where?” Peter asked, voice shaking, “Where are we going?”

“Shut up.” He snapped, dragging Peter along. 

“Where am I?” He tried again. “Please …just tell me where I am.”

The man threw him against the wall, nearly letting him fall back to the cold, hard ground. “Shut up, or I’ll shove this needle in your throat and you’ll go back to sleep.” 

Peter could only one, tears filling his eyes as he struggled to keep them from falling. 

The man waiting for him in the room that the big guy dragged him to was dressed in a suit, hair carefully combed, eyes cold and calculating. The guard shoved him toward a chair, not seeming to notice when Peter slammed into the armrest, barely able to keep his balance. 

“So…this is Stark’s new pet. Spiderman, is it?”

Peter shook his head, feeling the blood drain from his face. “No…no, I…I’m not…”

“No use in denying it,”. The man dismissed with a careless wave of his hand. “I know what you are.”

What he was. No who. What. Peter felt a cold chill go up his spine. This man didn’t see him as a person…so what was he going to do to him? Did anyone even know were he was? Did May know? Had Mr. Stark told her? Was she sitting at home, wondering her he was?

“I think I’d like to know exactly how you work. How exactly did you get these…enhancements? Was it Stark?” 

Peter didn’t dare answer. Didn’t even make eye contact. He had no idea who this man was or what he wanted, but he knew that whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. So they sat in silence for a few seconds before the man chuckled a little. 

“That’s fine. I don’t need you to tell me anything. I can figure it all out on my own. You see, I want to know how you work. What makes your strange…capabilities possible. I want to figure out how your mutation functions. So, we’re going to be running some tests.” Peter swallowed hard, shrinking in his chair, fingers starting to go numb. “Joseph?” The man asked, waving a hand, and the guard was back, yanking him to his feet and dragging him out of the room once more. 

When Mr. Stark came for him, he had no idea how long he’d been in this place. Could barely remember how he’d gotten to the small white room with the white door and the white bench, his arms wrapped around his torso thanks to the almost ever-present straight jacket. It had almost stopped hurting.

The tests hadn’t. 

The door was thrown open…he hadn’t been sleeping. Hadn’t even had his eyes shut. He always knew when it was time to sleep because that’s when the lights when off. They never came for him when the lights were off.

He was used to the door being thrown open. That’s how the guards always came in. He didn’t look up. They liked to beat the shit out of him when he made too much eye contact, and thanks to the drugs they kept giving him, he couldn’t fight back. 

“Peter!” He hadn’t heard his name in a while, and it was strange to hear it after what had felt like so long. “Kid! Pete!” The voice urged, and a hand gripped his shoulder over the straight jacket. He was sitting on the floor, curled up in the corner, and someone was kneeling beside him. “Get this fucking thing…no, you know what, back the fuck off. Don’t…don’t you ever touch him again.”

“Stark…”. Someone started, but the person ignored him, and arms reached around him, working at the straps on the straight jacket. 

“I swear to all that is holy, you fucking asshole, I will go to every news station in the world and I will tell them that you kidnapped a minor and held him in this hellhole. Do you understand me? Get the fuck away from him!” 

Peter stared at the floor as the hands worked, and then his arms were loose, and he couldn’t stop the sigh of relief. Hands rubbed furiously up and down his shoulders, then slipped the jacket off of him. “Hey, hey Underoos. You with me?”

The voice was familiar. But he couldn’t remember. Couldn’t make himself think. A finger slipped under his chin, and another touched the side of his face which was tender, so Peter figured that he had a bruise. He could only see clearly out of one eye, so one of them had to be swollen…but after they’d cut him apart earlier, they’d given him another shot of that stuff, so he could barely focus.

“Hey. Focus up, Spiderling.” The gentle voice urged, and he blinked a few times, shaking his head 

“I…I don’t…”. He tried, swaying a little, and hands held him steady by his shoulders. 

“What the hell do you have him on? Shit!” The man snapped, but he looked more afraid than angry.

There was no answer, or not one that Peter heard.

“Why don’t we get you home, huh kiddo?” The man asked, apparently talking to Peter again. “How does that sound. We’re going to get you out of here.”

Home. Home sounded good. He couldn’t remember much about home, or about anything else, but he was happy to go anywhere that wasn’t where he was. So he tried to nod, but his chin fell to his chest. And then he was being lifted, cradled in someone’s arms, his head on their shoulder, and he thought that he might be okay. Maybe. It was always hard to tell whether or not something was a dream. 

When he woke the next time, he was laying down, arms mercifully stretched out at his sides. His head was pounding and his throat was dry, but he was wrapped in a blanket and he was so comfortable and warm. He hadn’t been comfortable in…how long? 

“Kid? You with me?” A tired voice asked, and Peter hummed his agreement, opening and closing his hands and enjoying the fact that he could. “There you go, Pete. Wanna open your eyes?”

Oh…his eyes weren’t open. Squeezing them tight, he struggled for a moment, then managed it, blinking up at the man sitting beside him in the dim light of a dark blue room. “Mr. Stark?” He rasped. 

“That’s me.” A hand touched his hair for a moment, brushing it out of his face. 

“Am I still…”. He started, then realized that he didn’t know where he’d been. Didn’t know how long he’d been there or what all they’d done to him, and the thought scared him, but only a little. He was too tired, too drained to be really scared. 

“You’re safe, Pete. Don’t worry.” The voice was sad and resigned, but when he got himself to focus on the man sitting beside him, he was surprised to see him looking sadly down at him, his face exhausted if not hopeful. “You’re in a guest room at the tower.”

“Oh.” Peter murmured, his eyes started to close again, and the hand went back to his hair, brushing gently through it. He wasn’t 100% sure what that meant, but it sounded good to him.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Uh…I’m okay.” He murmured. “I’m…at the tower?”

“Yep.” 

He opened his eyes again, starting to roll over on the bed but flinching when it sent a stab of pain through his ribs. “Easy, buddy. You’re pretty banged up. Your metabolism wasn’t able to keep up with your injuries, and they weren’t feeding you enough.”

“How long…how long was I there?”

“About two weeks,” Tony told him. “I…I didn’t…”. He stared, shaking his head. “Pete…I swear, I didn’t know that Ross was after you. I had no idea that he even knew you existed, and I never told him anything about you. And…I swear, kid, I didn’t stop looking for you but I didn’t know where he’d taken you and…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Peter. I had no idea…” 

Peter blinked. Tried to follow the conversation and failed. Mr. Stark was apologizing but he had no idea why. Still, he was sure it wasn’t his fault. Iron Man didn’t have anything to apologize to him for. “It’s okay, Mr. Stark. Wasn’t your fault.” The man just blinked at him, lips in a tight line. Before he fell asleep again, he tried to smile at the man. “Thanks for saving me.” 

He didn’t hear Mr. Stark answer, but the man did place his hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, his thumb rubbing gently over his arm until Peter fell asleep. 

When he woke again, Mr. Stark was still there, and he had the paperwork for an official Stark Industries Internship ready for Peter to sign as soon as he could hold a pen.


	7. Isolation

Peter placed his head on his folded arms, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. He’d thought about marking his days of captivity…had wondered what the Shield agents would think if they saw his wall and found it covered in tally marks. He knew that it had been nine weeks. Nine weeks in this place, alone. So, completely alone. And it felt like it was killing him.

Other than the shield agent that brought him groceries every week, he hadn't seen another soul except for the agent that brought him food once a week on Sundays, and who didn’t even speak to him. He hadn’t spoken to anyone for over two months now. He kept track of the days on an actual paper calendar hung on the wall like it was the 1950s or something, marking them off with large red Xs. 

There were rules he had to ‘follow...rules that had been written down for him to memorize that he’d long since threw away. 

-Don’t go outside during the day.  
-No communication with the outside world (this apparently included both the internet and cable for reasons he wasn’t sure about.)  
-Keep the curtains shut at all times.  
-Never open the door for anyone. Ever.

Peter thought that this was overkill and had told Nick Fury so. Adamantly, and on several occasions. The man had paid him no mind. He’d just assured Peter that his aunt and friends were all safe, and that these precautions were necessary. And Peter had done the only thing he could do...accept it. Shield was protecting his aunt. What else could he do?

His thoughts sometimes strayed to Mr. Stark, but he always shoved those thoughts away as best he could, focusing on the things he could do while staying in the two bedroom safe house in the middle of the woods.

-Clean.  
-Watch the same DVDs over and over (all six original Star Wars movies, and one of the new ones, Dirty Dancing, Cast Away, the first two seasons of Supernatural, and one of the new Sherlock Holmes movies...he had no idea why they’d picked these movies but he now hated every one of them, including, to his horror, Star Wars.)  
-Keep a journal  
-Read any of the books on the shelf (mostly classics or books written in the last five years or so, including enough Stephen King to keep him occupied for a while)  
-Cross off days on the calendar  
-Literally climb the walls  
-Do push-ups and try to remember the Pilates moves May had taught him.  
-Peek out the curtains and try to see animals.

By week three, he’d exhausted just about every one of these options, and by week nine, he felt like he was seriously going to lose it. The Shield agents kept him in food, so he didn’t have to worry about that, and at night, after dark, he would always step outside onto the little dilapidated porch and just breathe. Stare at the stars until they made him remember space and then he would stare into the trees and try to watch the animals instead. He saw deer and squirrels, raccoons and opossums, and he was pretty sure he heard a bear once. 

Sometimes he thought he heard other people... thought he saw someone standing behind him in the bathroom mirror or out of the corner of his eye. Then he would turn on one of the movies that he hated just to have some noise.

There was a radio too... an old one with a dial on the front that still worked. He turned it on sometimes too just to have some kind of noise in the house with him. He wanted out. Wanted to talk to the people he knew and loved and wanted other people and wanted someone to talk to him after his nightmares like Mr. Stark and May always had. 

He wanted to go home.

The knock on the door started him, and he froze, staring between the window, covered in thick blackout curtains, and the back door. No one ever knocked...the Shield agents always just let themselves in to drop off bags of groceries.

He could escape through the back door, he decided. Make a run for it. Tell Fury that someone had found him and that he’d have to relocate. Honestly, he’d kill to relocate. To go somewhere different, with new walls and a new ceiling and new movies. 

Any new movies.

Another rap on the door brought him back to the present, and he inched his way forward, a hand pressed to the wood for a moment as he listened. He didn’t dare speak...didn’t dare call out a greeting. He’d been given orders. Strict ones. And he understood them. He didn’t like them...but he understood them. So long as May was safe, he would do what Shield wanted. He decided to wait it out... whoever it was might give up.

The knock came again, and this time, a voice. “Open up, kid. I know you’re in there. I had Friday hack old One-Eye Nick and…”

The man hadn’t finished his sentence before Peter was throwing the door open and staring in abject shock at what felt like a hallucination... it had to be a hallucination. “Mr. Stark?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper. The last he’d heard, the man had still been recovering... in bed. Heck, as far as he knew, Mr. Stark didn’t even know that Peter had gone to Europe. Or any of the rest of it. He wasn’t sure what Nick Fury had told his mentor, but apparently it hadn’t been enough, judging by how shocked the man looked to see him. 

Peter knew that he looked bad. Knew that his face was gaunt and pale and that he’d lost a lot of weight.

“Pete?” The man asked, his casual facade dropping in a heartbeat. “Kid...are you okay?” 

Peter reached out and grabbed him by his good arm, pulling him inside and shutting the door, then threw his arms around him as he fought a sob. Mr. Stark was there. He would fix this. He could fix anything. The man’s arms looped around him and held him up without any trouble. 

“Are you...have they seriously kept you alone here?” Mr. Stark demanded, sounding angry. Peter nodded, the sob escaping, as he realized that Mr. Stark hadn’t known...that he would have to tell the man how badly he’d messed up.

“I screwed up...Mr. Stark, Beck told everyone who I was and...and Nick Fury said I had to be taken into protective custody, and May too...but they took her somewhere else and I’m not allowed to leave and…”

“Okay...alright buddy. Take a breath, okay? You’re okay.” Mr. Stark soothed, his cool metal hand rubbing Peter’s back. 

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. You were counting on me and…”

“Let’s get one thing straight right off the bat, huh, Pete? You’re seventeen years old. Still a teenager. You went on a school trip and Nick Fury hijacked it, forced you into something you didn’t want to do, and then nearly got you killed by a maniac. None of this is on you, Pete. You didn’t let me down. I’m so proud of you. And if Nick Fury hadn’t hidden you so well, it wouldn’t have taken me so long to find you.”

“You...you were looking for me?”

“Of course I was.” He whispered, brushing a tear from Peter’s cheek. “I wouldn’t have let him do this to you if I’d been able to stop it kiddo. And now, I can stop it.”

“But...I’m supposed to be in protective custody.”

“And so you will be. In the protective custody of Iron Man, Pepper Potts, War Machine, and Morgan Stark.” Peter has to grin at that last one. He’d met Mr. Stark’s daughter a handful of times and already loved her.

“What about Nick Fury?”

“Nick Fury can…”. He paused, seemed to rethink his phrasing, then shook his head. “Nick Fury can deal with it.” He told Peter simply. 

Peter thought he maybe should argue or insist on staying. And for a second, he hesitated. “But...May.”

“We’ll find her too, Pete. I promise. Fri is working on it as we speak. How long have you been here?” Peter started to answer but Mr. Stark spotted his calendar and frowned, gently pushing past Peter and lifting up the current page, obviously counting. “68 days.” He all but whispered, glancing over at Peter in horror. 

“Can we go?” Peter asked, his voice suddenly sounding so small. Please.”

“You got it, buddy.” The man whispered, nodding and reaching out to wrap an arm around him. “Happy is waiting out by the road. It’s only about a ten minute walk. You think you’re up for it?”

Peter nodded. Honestly, nothing had ever sounded so good.


	8. Stab Wound

Peter curled up in the alley, leaning his head against the building behind him, biting down on his lower lip and struggling to keep the pained cry inside. The sweatsuit he'd been wearing was stained with blood, the entire side a dull, brownish red as the blood dried. He took a deep breath, dropping his head back and taking a deep breath. He was on his own now... he would have to deal with this himself.

Placing a firm hand on his side, he pressed, fighting to keep from screaming. He wanted to yank his mask off but couldn't risk it. Couldn't risk anyone seeing his face. So he took deep breaths through his teeth. The blood was seeping out through his fingers and he groaned at the pain. He was alone...ever since his aunt and uncle had died...ever since he'd run from the third foster home they'd put him in, he'd been on his own.

He was fourteen. Old enough to be doing things on his own, as he told himself. He was a superhero now. A real hero. He had powers and had made himself a suit. So what if he couldn't go to school anymore. So what if he hadn't seen Ned in months and missed him like crazy and slept in alleys now. So what?

The tears threatened to fall, but Peter squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. He wasn't going to cry. No way. Not in an alley while trying to keep himself from bleeding out. He had to be strong now. He was alone and he had to take care of himself. He wished he had a rag or something. Beside him on the ground was his old ratty backpack with his only other outfit, a bar of soap, fifteen dollars, a gift card to McDonald's that a nice lady had given him, and a couple of packs of nuts.

He'd ditched his phone before realizing that no one was looking for him. He was an orphan...he had no one left.

The thug had stuck the knife right between his ribs, and he hoped that it wasn't too deep. Otherwise, he'd have to figure out how to find a sewing kit, spend some of his precious money, and then figure out how to sew himself up. He'd seen his aunt sew before, and pretty much understood the basics ...but he didn't know if he could reach his side, or if he would be able to stab himself repeatedly with a needle.

There were footsteps approaching, and Peter tried to shrink back, making himself a small as possible as the person came closer and closer. He tried to hold his breath...tried to scoot back against the wall and look for something to hide behind. More than once, a police officer had appeared when he'd thought he was safe, usually to chase him off or try to take him in, probably to send him to another foster home.

The first one had been so overcrowded with five other kids that he hadn't had room to breathe, and one of the older boys had decided that he hated him. He'd put up with the abuse for the month.

The second had been fine, but the parents had split up and neither had been able to take him...neither had wanted to. Never before had he felt more like trash...like something no one wanted.

The third family had seemed okay at first. And then the mother had come into his bedroom at night and he'd woken up….

He was never going back. He was never going into another foster home. Ever. He'd live on the streets for the rest of his life if he had to. He would...he would find a job. Maybe try to get a job with Stark Industries one day. He'd always been good at math and science. Maybe he could do it. He'd take any job...any job they gave him. He'd mop floors and then maybe he could solve an unsolvable equation on a blackboard in an empty room and Mr. Stark would see and…

Wait...no...that was Good Will Hunting.

The footsteps came closer and he gave up, hiding his face in his knees and keeping a hand pressed to his side, trying not to bleed out while waiting for whoever it was to pass. But they didn't pass. Instead, they turned, moving closer to where Peter sat hunched over, coming to a stop a few feet away. Peter didn't dare look up.

"So you must be Spiderman."

Peter couldn't help the flinch...couldn't help how his head jerked up at the sound of that familiar voice. He'd know that voice anywhere. Had heard it a million times on Youtube videos and on TV...that was Iron Man.

"Mr. Stark." He whispered, eyes huge behind his mask and goggles.

"That's me. Tony Stark." The man pulled off a pair of sunglasses, crouching down across from him, his back to the opposite wall. "I saw what you did back there. Saved that girl's life. Good job. I've also seen your stuff on Youtube. You stopped a bus with your bare hands. That's pretty impressive. You've got skills, kid."

"Th...thanks…" Peter whispered again, not wanting the man to hear his voice and figure out how young he was. "Thank you."

"Yeah...so what are you doing?"

"Um...just...resting." Peter told him, grimacing under his mask."

"Really?" He nodded, then reached out a hand that Peter flinched away from, turning his head and putting his shoulder up to protect his face, a reflex that had been beat into him first at the foster home and then on the streets. Mr. Stark froze, and he heard breathe in sharply. "Kid? Hey...you're alright. I'm not going to hurt you." He murmured, and Peter blinked at him, slowly lowering the hand, embarrassed despite himself.

"Sorry…"

"Don't be sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He muttered, wiping a hand over his face and flinching at the stabbing pain in his side and the black spots taking over his vision. "Yeah, I just...uh…"

"You're kind of covered in blood, you know."

"Yeah."

"Do you know where you are?"

Peter didn't...it was embarrassing, but he had no idea. Besides, the man's voice wasn't cruel or mocking...in fact, it was pretty gentle. "No." He admitted

"You're about a block away from my Tower. Well, Avengers Tower. How about I take you there? I've got all sorts of doctors there...ones who won't tell anyone who you are. What do you say?"

It wasn't like he had much of a choice, so he nodded, pressing his hands to the ground and trying to sit up, then froze, a cry forced out of his throat as she crashed down to the ground once more, gripping his side and letting out a sob. Immediately, Mr. Stark was kneeling beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder as he gasped for breath.

"Kid? Hey...I'm gonna take the mask off, okay?"

Peter started to answer, but he coughed instead, lips trembling as his side throbbed in pain. The man slipped a hand gently under his chin, lifting the mask over his face, and then freezing. He blinked up at the man, eyes wide and afraid and, much to his embarrassment, and full of tears. "Don't send me back. Please...please don't let them take me back." He all but sobbed, begging through tears that dripping down his cheek, and the man pressed his lips together, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

"You're alright. Don't worry...you're safe. I'm going to get you to a doctor...no one is going to hurt you, okay."

Peter nodded, closing his eyes and dropping his head back to the ground just as the man slipped a careful hand under his back, and another under his knees. He lifted him without much of a problem, and Peter had to fight another cry, clutching his side as Mr. Stark straightened. The man carried him to a car where an actual driver waited, then eased him inside, leaning him against the window, then pulling his sweatshirt up and pressing a rag to his side. "I know, kiddo. I know it hurts." He told Peter when he gasped. "Believe me, I've been stabbed way too many times, according to Pepper. But we're going to fix you up." He spoke in a low voice, keeping firm pressure on the stab wound.

He closed his eyes, heavy lids making keeping them open impossible, but the man gripped his shoulder, shaking him. "Hey...stay awake, buddy. Stay with me. What's your name?"

"Peter." He choked out, and then they were pulling into a parking garage.

"Nice to meet you, Peter. I'm Tony."

Peter found himself in the man's arms once more, and then he was in an elevator, and then a large room that smelled like bleach as the man eased him onto a bed. Two doctors appeared then, one putting a hand on his shoulder to ease him back on the bed and another taking over for Mr. Stark, holding pressure to his side. "Mr. Stark?" He called, trying to pull away from one of the doctors, but the man appeared by his head.

"Hey, kid. You're alright. Just let them fix you up, okay?" Then he was speaking to someone else. "I think he's gonna need more."

Something poked him in the arm, and he closed his eyes, unable to keep them open. "There you go, Pete. You're okay. We're gonna…" He didn't hear the rest...the next thing he knew, he was floating.

And then he was awake. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking a few times, then turned his head only to find that it hadn't been a dream. That Mr. Stark was sitting at his side, leaning his head against the wall, a tablet in his hands. "Good morning." He greeted, putting the table down, and Peter flushed a little, dropping his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Thanks...for...you know." Peter muttered, gestured to his torso which was now wrapped in bandages. The man nodded, regarding him for a moment. And then he spoke, voice deceptively casual.

"So...Peter Parker. Fourteen. Three foster homes in five months. Ran away from the last one." He leaned in. "That was nearly two months ago." Peter shrugged a little. "You've been saving people ever since."

"Are you going to send me back?"

"No." Mr. Stark told him quickly, shaking his head. "No, I'm sure that you had your reasons for running...but, uh...I have a proposal for you."

Peter started to sit up, surprised when his side didn't hurt nearly as much, and he managed to push himself into a sitting position. He trusted Mr. Stark...the man was a superhero. But he also didn't like laying down and having someone lean over him. "What do you mean?"

"Did you know that I meet all the requirements to become a foster parent in the state of New York?" Peter just blinked at him. "Honestly, it would be better...since you've got superpowers and all. Wouldn't want anyone finding out about that. Plus, you could really use a new suit if you're going to be swinging around the city. Who manufactures that web fluid anyway?"

"Um...I do."

"Impressive. Tensile strength off the charts. Also, I have a whole lab full of chemicals for you to play with if you want to work on it some more...don't tell the foster board people that. Anyway, the tower is pretty close to your old school and…" The man looked up, then paused. "Pete? You with me?"

"I just...I don't get it." He admitted, his voice a shaky whisper.

Mr. Stark pressed his lips together, and then he gave a rueful smile, his careless facade dropping for a moment. "Maybe I should phrase this a little differently. Would you like to stay with me? Here...in the tower. I spoke to my lawyers and, through some extensive and possibly not quite legal negotiations, I was given permission to become your foster parent. At least for now. We'll have to talk to a social worker in a few days, but that should just be a formality. I doubt they'll say no to me."

"Why?" Peter asked, unable to help the question.

"You're a superhero, kid. Superheros look after each other."

"You don't have to…"

"Hey." The man interrupted, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "I know. I know I don't have to. But I want to. And I'm offering. What do you say? Wanna give one more foster home a try?"

Biting down hard on his lip, Peter nodded, doing his best not to cry and failing, a tear dripping down his cheek. The man didn't laugh or even seem to notice. Just waited. "Yeah...please...if I can…"

Mr. Stark reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "In that case, let's look over the paperwork."


	9. Unconscious

Tony had found the Spiderkid in various states of distress throughout the handful of years that he'd known him. Ever since giving Peter an open invitation to stop by the tower any time, the boy had taken advantage of it. The first time, he'd nearly had a heart attack when he'd walked past the hall bathroom only to find Peter, half in his suit, blood covering his torso all leaking from what had turned out to be a gunshot wound in his shoulder.

"What the hell!" Tony had cried, barging in and taking over, holding a wad of gauze to his arm.

"It's fine, Mr. Stark." Peter had assured in him an insanely calm voice, starting to bat his hand away, but Tony had captured his wrist, placing it on the sink and holding it there for a moment, his grip gentle.

"You were shot, Peter! That's not fine!"

"The bullet just grazed me." He had started to insist, but his mouth had snapped shut at the look Tony had given him.

The next few times hadn't been so bad. He'd found the kid in his living room, curled up on the sofa, or in the kitchen, drinking hot chocolate and snacking on pretzels at the kitchen counter. Sometimes Pepper would be with him if it was late, the two of them chatting or watching YouTube videos. He loved those nights for a reason he couldn't or didn't want to put a name to.

It was chilly for early October, and Tony poured himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen, shivering as he made his way down to the lab, glancing at the living room to make sure there were no Spiders Kids in there. More than once he'd been startled to find the kid sleeping in various spots in the tower, usually sleeping off a sprain or bruises that he didn't want May to see. May was fine with him staying at the tower whenever, as long as he let her know first, so Tony liked to joke that they had a very loose custody agreement.

The living room and kitchen were free of spiders, so he headed down to the lab, taking a long swig of his coffee and trying to wake himself up. He had a ton of work to catch up on after a night off spent with Pepper, as did she, and he didn't anticipate seeing her for the next twelve or so hours. Checking his watch, he stepped into his lab, placing the hot mug on a counter and waving a hand to wake everything up. "Alright, Fri, you know what to do. I've got a lot…".

He froze, something in the corner distracting him. A foot...a foot sticking out from under his desk. Tony approached carefully, looking around to see if someone were about to jump out..like this was some kind of prank. But no one else was around. "Fri?" He asked, hesitant. Why would there be a foot in his lab? Unless...unless it was attached to a person. A very specific person. "Hey, Fri, any reason you didn't tell me the kid was here?"

"The protocol you wrote states that Peter is allowed in any non-restricted section of the tower, and therefore, I would not need to inform you of his arrival."

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled, kneeling down beside the boy who had apparently stumbled into his lab at some point in the night and made himself at home...behind Tony's desk. On the floor. That didn't quite add up. His knees popped when he crouched beside Peter, reaching out and placing his hand on the kid's leg. Peter had wedged himself against the wall, head resting on his outstretched arm, knees curled to his chest. And Toy had found Peter in plenty of odd places around the Tower, but never anywhere this odd. "Is he alright?" He asked Friday.

Peter wasn't in the suit...he was in a Midtown Tech sweatshirt and khakis, and although Tony couldn't see any obvious bloody gushing wounds, he had known Peter for long enough that he was hesitant to just trust whatever he saw. "I cannot detect any life-threatening injuries, but I am unable to do a proper scan with him on the floor. You would need to move him to…"

"Yeah, yeah…." He grumbled, waving a hand, then squeezing his knee. "Peter? You okay, kiddo?"

Upon closer observation, he could see that Peter's eyes were red and swollen, cheeks flushed, and that his body was tense even in sleep. No...the kid wasn't alright. But Tony would be damned if he wouldn't figure out how to make him alright. "Pete? Hey, buddy...come on." He shook the boy's leg gently, not wanting to hurt him if he was already hurt.

The kid muttered in his sleep, curling up in an even tighter ball, his left arm curled to his chest along with his knees. "Pete, why don't you get up? This can't be comfortable. I know it would be killing my back." Sighing when Peter didn't move, Tony stood, pushing his desk out of the way, then knelt back down beside Peter. "You aren't seriously going to make me pick you up, are you?" He asked without any hope or malice in his voice. The kid was silent. "Alright, buddy." He sighed, starting to slip a hand under Peter's shoulder, then pausing. His cheeks were flushed, and the kid shivered a little, so Tony reached out a hand and placed it against his forehead.

Hot. So hot.

"Okay...okay, um...Peter? Kid, I need you to wake up." He shook Peter's shoulder harder, brushing his hair back from his burning forehead. "Peter!" The kid hummed but refused to wake. "Fine." He grumbled, slipping his arms under Peter and lifting him, gripping him tightly and carrying him the table in the middle of the room. "Alright...Friday, he's got a fever. What do I do?"

"I would suggest calling an actual medical professional." His AI snarked.

"One more smart comment and I'm throwing you out!" He snapped, then bit his lip when Peter flinched in his sleep. "Not you." He murmured, pushing Peter's hair back. "Okay, apart from calling a doctor, which I am, by the way…"

"You are not, in fact, a medical doctor…"

"What can I do?"

"I would suggest getting a cold compress and placing it on his forehead, then…"

"Ben?" Peter asked, the word slurring out of his mouth, and Tony froze. Friday was silent for a moment, and Tony squeezed his shoulder.

"Peter? Hey...hey, buddy. It's Tony."

"Where did Ben go?"

"I.." Tony closed his eyes, then took a deep breath. He couldn't freak out. Not yet. Maybe later. "I don't know, Pete. But I'm here now. How are you feeling."

"M'head hurts...and my neck." He brought up a hand, clumsily reaching for his head, but Tony caught his wrist before he could.

"Were you on patrol? Did you get hurt while you were out somewhere?"

"No…" Peter groaned, lips compressing, then wobbling like he might cry. "No...my head! It hurts!" He cried, jaw tight as he threw his head back. "Tony…Tony it hurts!"

Too worried to care that the kid was calling him by his first name, he nodded. "Okay. Okay, I'm going to take care of it. Okay, buddy. I'm...um...Friday, I need you to drive, okay? We're going to get you to the hospital, Pete. Friday, call ahead. Tell them...um ...everything. Except for the whole Spiderman thing. Tell them that he's a mutant if they can be trusted but...shit...um…" Peter clenched his hands into fists at his sides, whimpering as he brought a hand up to his head.

"Tony?"

"Yep. Right here, Underoos. I've got you. We're going to take you to…"

"Incoming call from May Parker," Friday informed him as he lifted the boy into his arms, trying to cradle his head against his shoulder.

"Great. Answer it...reroute to the car when I get out there."

"Tony?" May Park's frantic voice filled the lab, and he hurried toward the closest car, placing Peter in the passenger seat. He arched his neck, grunting in pain and turning his head to the side, dropping it against his shoulder, then shifting again as Tony buckled him in.

"Friday, recline the seat." Thankfully, he'd picked a car with automatic seat controls, and the seat leaned back until Peter was reclining a little more. "There you go."

"Tony!" May cried again. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah...sorry May."

"Peter isn't at home, and Ned says he hasn't heard from him, and he was feeling sick yesterday and…"

"I've got him here, May. I'm going to take him to the hospital."

"The hospital?" May asked, sounding almost surprised. "I thought…"

"This isn't something I can handle. He's in a lot of pain and his fever is…" He trailed off, waiting for Friday.

"103.9, boss."

"Really high." He finished as he pulled out of the parking garage and sped down the already busy street, not wanting to alarm May with that particular number. "I'm taking him to the closest hospital. Friday is calling ahead so they'll be ready for him. Can you meet us?"

"Of course. I'm on my way."

The boy seemed to drop back into an uneasy unconsciousness, curled up on his side as much as he could with a seat belt on, and Tony reached over, putting a hand on the kid's knee. "You're alright, Pete. You're okay. I'm getting you some help, okay?"

The drive to the hospital took less than ten minutes, but it felt like longer. So, so much longer with Peter boiling in the seat beside him, making frightened, pained noises in his sleep. Tony kept up a stream of mindless chatter, promising Peter that he would be okay. That Tony had him. That Tony was going to get him to the hospital and get him help.

He was met at the entrance to the emergency room by two women with a stretcher. "Mr. Stark?"

"I told my AI to call you." He started, and one of the women nodded.

"She did, Mr. Stark. We know all about his...special needs." She assured him, rolling the gurney close as Tony unbuckled Peter's seatbelt. Not giving the women the chance to pick him up, Tony lifted him, pressing a quick kiss to Peter's temple.

"You're alright, buddy. I'm just going to get you to someone that can help. Okay?" Carefully, he lay the boy on the gurney, forcing himself to step back as they strapped him in, then rolled him into the hospital.

"Mr. Stark you can wait right through there." One of them called pointed at a set of doors, and he nodded, heading inside to fill out whatever paperwork he could, hand over his card, and wait for May, who arrived about half an hour later.

She dropped into a chair beside him, and he told her everything he knew before she could ask. The doctors hadn't told him anything yet. Hadn't come out with any updates. "He was feeling sick yesterday," May whispered, wiping a hand over her eyes. "I...I should have forced him to go to the hospital...should have taken him. I didn't even know that he snuck out."

"I don't think he meant to sneak out," Tony told her gently. "Friday showed me the footage...I don't know if he was delirious or sleepwalking...I found him asleep on the floor of my lab behind my desk."

May snorted. "Of course he'd go where he feels safest." That made Tony's heart clench in a strange way, but before he could try and brush it off, a doctor stepped out of the double doors by the nurse's station and called for the family of Peter Parker.

The diagnosis was viral meningitis, and the kid was on fever reducers, enough pain medicine for a horse, and fluids to help him through it. They were allowed to go and sit with him, and Tony and May sat on either side of him until he woke up, blinking up at them with bleary eyes and asking what had happened.

"Don't worry, baby. You're okay." May promised, taking his hand, careful of the IV, and Tony patted his other hand, resting his own hand on top of it.

"She's right, Pete. You're fine."

And he was after a full day spent sleeping, during which Tony and May sat at his side and watched boring TV shows, Tony texting Pepper to let her know that he was about to fall even more behind in his work. As the two waited for Peter to wake up, May flipping through the channels to try and find something remotely interesting, and Tony considering just buying the whole hospital and a subscription to the good channels, his phone pinged in his pocket. He pulled it out, finding a text message from Rhodey.

"How could you?"

Tony frowned at the text, then touched the link, unable to cover his snort as he read the headline, then passed his phone over to May to read.

"Billionaire Playboy Tony Stark and His Secret Mistress Spotted at Local Hospital. Waiting for News of Their Love Child?"

May threw her head back and laughed, passing his phone back and stroking Peter's hair. "Hear that, baby? You're our love child."

Tony chuckled, shoving the phone back in his pocket. "Think Pepper will be pissed?" He asked.

May gave a careless shrug. "I'm sure we can all make it work."


	10. Stitches

Peter stared at the concrete ceiling, jaw tight as he took deep breaths, teeth pressed together so tightly that he worried they might break. He closed his eyes for a second, flinching and forcing himself to lay still. He had to breathe. Had to keep inhaling and exhaling.

"I'm almost done." Pepper Potts told him softly, and he was surprised to find that her hands weren't even shaking, despite the fact that her voice did.

"Thank you." He whispered, not daring to raise his voice any louder, mostly because he was afraid that it would break if he did. He lay on his back on the cold concrete bench, the gash on his side the least of his problems. He knew that his lip was busted, and he was pretty sure that his right ankle was broken. He'd done everything he could, not caring if they figured out who he was...had taken out ten Hydra agents before one had held a gun to Pepper's head, and then he'd stopped fighting. Had gone limp and had let them do whatever they wanted to him because he'd never risk her.

So he'd let them drag him into the van where two armed guards had sat, watching heir every move, huge machine guns on their laps. Pepper had huddled beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and keeping him close as though she was going to protect him. As though she could. But he knew the truth. He had to protect her. He had to keep her safe until he could get her out...or until Mr. Stark and the Avengers came for them.

"Okay," Pepper whispered, resting a hand on his side, her fingers cool against his too-hot skin. "I'm all done. Do you think you can sit up?" He nodded, letting Pepper take his hand and pull him up. He hissed, faltering for a second, and Pepper placed a firm hand on his back to help him up. There was only one concrete slab that was apparently supposed to be their bed, and she sat him up against the wall, letting him stretch his legs out. Pulling off her work blazer, she placed it over him, balling up his sweatshirt behind his head. "Can you breathe okay?" He gave a weak nod, placing a hand on his side and shivering.

It had been Peter's weekend at the tower, which he had once a month, and usually Mr. Stark and Happy would pick him up, but Pepper had offered since Mr. Stark would be busy instead of making him cancel or wait. She had taken him out for ice cream, taking advantage of a rare opportunity to spend time together since they rarely saw each other, and had been going back to the car, Peter carrying a milkshake for Mr. Stark, when they'd been attacked, men swarming out from an alley and a van that had screeched to a halt in front of them. Peter had dropped the milkshake, leaping into action...but then they'd gotten Pepper.

Once he'd stopped fighting, they'd gotten their revenge, then thrown him into the back of a van along with Pepper, four armed guards watching their every move as they'd been driven away. And Peter knew that Mr. Stark would have found out what had happened by then. Peter was sure that he was on his way. He would get Pepper and then Peter could help him...but he couldn't leave Pepper unguarded. He couldn't let them hurt her.

The two had been thrown into a cell along with a sewing kit for Pepper who had done her best to clean up his side where one of the agents had gotten him with a knife. He shivered, wishing for a blanket or his sweatshirt, but it was soaked in blood and was currently being used to prop his head up against the wall. "Are you okay?" He asked, opening his swollen eyes, and she smiled, patting his knee.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. They didn't hurt me." She promised. "How about you?"

"I'm fine. I'll be fine." He hesitated. "What do you think they want?"

"Something to do with Tony, I'm sure." She told him with a sigh, then running a hand through his hair. "We're going to be okay."

He nodded. They had to be okay. They would be okay. Someone would come for them.

The hours passed, and despite the ice cream they'd eaten, Peter's stomach growled. Pepper sat beside him on the concrete bench, wrapping an arm around him, his head on her shoulder as he dozed. He was starving and so tired, but he didn't want to sleep...not until they were out of there and Pepper was safe. He had to get Pepper out of there. For Mr. Stark. But he must have fallen asleep because he jerked awake when footsteps approached, the door to their cell being thrown open as four guards, all with guns, stormed in. On instinct, Peter gripped Pepper...but they were there for her.

He stood, putting his arms out in front of her, but the guards moved forward, guns pointed at him. "You're not taking her." Peter snapped, ignoring the pain in his side. "No."

"Peter...it's okay…"

"No!" He shook his head. He couldn't let them take her. Couldn't let them take her out of this room because if he couldn't see her, he couldn't protect her and he had to protect her at all costs. For Mr. Stark. And for her. Because he loved her, just like he loved Mr. Stark...she had become like a second mother to him and she was May's friend now and...and he couldn't let them hurt her.

But they had guns. And he couldn't stand in front of Pepper and protect her and fight them off and make sure they didn't hurt her. So he found himself on the ground, a gun pressed to his back, a boot slammed into his stomach multiple times as they pulled her out of the room with a lot less force than they'd used on him. He was glad...but also a little jealous.

"Stay down, you little freak." The man with a knee in his back snapped, and he gasped for air, eyes shut tight until the others had all left. "Try that again…" The guard moved the gun to the back of his knee and Peter stiffened, gasping and biting his lip to keep from begging. "And I'll shoot you right in the knee and leave you to bleed out. You understand?" Peter nodded, a tear slipping out of his eye and running down one cheek.

When Pepper came back, he hadn't moved, and she dropped to her knees, a hesitant hand on his back. "Peter?" She asked, voice raised a little. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He whispered, voice hoarse, and she slipped her hand under his shoulder. "What did they want?"

"They sent a video to Tony. I'm okay. They didn't hurt me. Tony is coming...he's going to get us out of here."

"I should have…"

"No." Pepper cut him off, squeezing his shoulder and then helping him sit up, taking his weight as she eased him up off the floor and onto the concrete bench. "It is not your job to protect me, Peter." He gave her a look and she sighed, her face softening as she brushed his hair back. "Sometimes you look just like him, you know? Sound like him too." He let himself close his eyes and she sat beside him once more. "How does your side feel?"

"Fine." He muttered. It wasn't true. His side was killing him, as was his stomach where he'd been kicked more than once in the last few hours. But he would be fine, as soon as they were out of there. As soon as Peter figured out how to get them out...or Mr. Stark came for them. He needed to get them out! Needed to save Pepper. Needed to protect her. But everything hurt so much and he couldn't even sit up on his own and it was all his fault. He hadn't protected her. Hadn't kept her from being kidnapped and thrown into a jail cell with him and this was his fault. His fault that she had been out without Happy...Mr. Stark had trusted him and he hadn't protected her.

Pepper pressed a kiss to his temple, just like Mr. Stark did sometimes. "It's okay. We're going to be okay."

The Avengers came that night, the sounds of gunshots and explosions filling the little cell as Peter lay on the concrete bench with Pepper sitting beside him, feeling absolutely useless. And then the door to their cell was being blasted open, and Mr. Stark hurried in, dressed in the Iron Man armor. He let it open and jumped out, throwing his arms around Pepper who raced to meet him. Peter struggled to sit up, hoping at least to do that much, but Mr. Stark hurried over, grabbing his arm.

"Are you okay?" The man demanded, holding him down.

"Fine," Peter whispered. "I'm sorry…"

Mr. Stark shook his head and gestured for Pepper to help him, the two of him sitting him up between them. "How long ago…" He asked, pointing to Peter's side. Pepper's blazer was wrapped around his shoulders, but he was still shivering.

"When they first took us. They let me sew him up but they didn't give me any alcohol to clean it…"

"Hey, Pete. You with me?"

"I tried to protect her…" He whispered, closing his eyes, and Mr. Stark placed his hand on the side of Peter's face.

"You did, buddy. You did really good. Now we're going to get you both out of here, okay? Think you can stand up?" He nodded, and Mr. Stark got an arm around him, helping him to his feet. Peter hissed in pain, starting to double over, and then he was being scooped into Mr. Stark's arms, the Iron Man suit forming around the man. "You're okay. We're gonna get you back to the compound. You're okay."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I promise...I tried…"

"I know you did. Pepper is fine, kiddo. And you're going to be fine too. I think your side got infected though, so we're going to get that taken care of."

The man carried him out of the room and to the Quinjet where here was laid on a soft bed and wrapped in a blanket, and something was pressed to his side that made him gasp, clenching his jaw and throwing his head back. Pepper sat beside him, her fingers carding gently through his hair while Natasha Romanoff sat on his other side, taking a look at the wound on his side. He tried not to think about what she was doing, focusing instead on Pepper's fingers in his hair. "You're okay." She murmured as Natasha injected him with something, attaching a tube to his arm, and hanging a bag from an IV pole. "We'll get some more ice cream later. Sound good. And we were going to watch a movie. Tony can join us…"

"That's right, kiddo." Mr. Stark told him, sitting down beside Pepper and patting his arm. "Whatever movie you want to watch." Peter closed his eyes, unable to fight the drowsiness anymore, and then he slept.

When he woke, he was in a bed in the Medbay, Mr. Stark at his side. "Hey, kiddo. You back?"

"Huh?"

"That's what I thought you'd say." He reached out, patting Peter on the leg, and Peter followed the movement with exhausted eyes.

"Pepper?" He asked.

"No, I'm Tony, although I understand how you could be confused…"

Peter shook his head, too tired to be amused, and the man softened.

"Pepper is fine. We had a doctor check her over and everything. Thanks to you, she's fine."

"I didn't do anything," Peter whispered, eyes filling as he sniffed. "I'm supposed to be a hero and I couldn't save her."

"Peter, I saw the footage from the parking lot. I saw what you did. You took out almost a dozen of those guards before they got to her. You were outnumbered and they had guns and you still could have beaten all of them, but you stopped when she was in danger. Then you let them beat the shit out of you so that she would be safe. According to her, you did that again after Pep had stitched you up, which is why you popped two of your stitches and got an infection. And two broken ribs. And a bruised kidney. I don't think there's much more you could have done."

"I couldn't let them hurt her."

"I know." The man murmured, leaning in and resting his clasped hands on Peter's bed. "And you didn't. I can never thank you enough for that. But I want the both of you to be safe. Okay? Which is why you are the lucky new owner of a custom-made tracker."

"You already put a tracker in my phone."

"Correct. But you did not, in fact, have your phone on you for some reason. You left it in the car. Because….I don't know why. It doesn't matter. I got you another one."

"Are you going to put it in my teeth like the movies?"

"Of course not," The man scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I made you this." He handed Peter a box, and Peter pulled on the fancy red ribbon, then pulled the lid off. He was surprised when he saw what looked like a Fitbit.

"You made me a Fitbit? Mr. Stark...someone else already made these." The man snorted.

"Yeah, not a Fitbit. It's a tracker. Coincidentally, it will also tell you how many steps you have walked that day. And the time."

"But it's not a Fitbit?"

"It's not a Fitbit, smartass." The man murmured, reaching out and pushing an errant curl out of his eyes. "Wear that all the time. It's water-proof. And Spidey-proof."

"Thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Pete?"

"Hm?"

The man put his hand on Peter's arm, squeezing gently. "Thank you. For protecting Pepper. I can't thank you enough, Peter." He grabbed a tablet from the chair beside him and stood, gesturing for Peter to move. "Scoot over, bud. I think I promised you a movie." And, climbing into the bed beside him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Tony made himself comfortable, pulled the blankets up to Peter's chin, and told him to choose a movie.


	11. Don't Move

Peter glanced at his wrist to check the time as he tramped through the woods, wiping the back of his hand over his forehead. He was sweating a little, despite the fact that it was still early October and a little windy. He was spending the week at Mr. Stark's lakehouse, and he could just see the lake through the trees, and the house a little further away. Mr. Stark was still recovering and Miss Potts was in the city, so while Mr. Stark did physical therapy with his arm, he had volunteered to take Morgan outside to play. Or, hike, as it was. She'd wanted to go swimming, but he'd told her that it was too cold, and so he'd agreed to go for a walk in the woods. She had been begging Mr. Stark to build her a treehouse, but since he was having a rough time with his prosthetic arm, Peter had suggested she show him some possible spots and had promised to draw up some plans.

The fact that he'd never even been in a treehouse didn't seem relevant when that smile lit up her face. Mr. Stark had smiled too, shooting Peter a grateful look while Rhodey had joined them in the living room where Mr. Stark did his physical therapy.

"When you two get back, we'll make pizza for lunch? Sound good?" The man had asked, and Morgan had shouted in the affirmative while she yanked her shoes on the wrong feet. Peter had chuckled, kneeling in front of her to help, gently guiding her as she tied them. Mr. Stark had watched with a soft, gentle smile, and had reached out, catching Peter's arm and then pulling him close for a quick hug, something the man did more and more often these days. "I love you, kiddo." He had whispered, and Peter had hugged him back.

"Love you too, Mr. Stark."

"Peter! Look! What about this tree?" Morgan cried from up ahead, pointing to a huge tree, and Peter grinned despite the fact that he had no idea what to look for when it came to a proper tree to build a treehouse in.

"Uh ...maybe." He would have looked it up, but his phone didn't have reception out here. "Let's keep looking." She nodded, racing through the leaves and throwing them up in the air, laughing when they rained down on her head. He had to smile, watching her play like that. He remembered playing...remembered running around outside, playing in leaves...swinging on a swingset and sliding down a slide and that had been enough.

After Thanos...after what had felt like the longest battle of his life, nothing felt like enough to fill that strange empty place inside him...the one that made him have nightmares that left him screaming and sobbing at 2am, pressing his face into his pillow so that he wouldn't wake May. But May made it better. So did Mr. Stark. Morgan. Pepper. Rhodey. They all made him feel a little better, and he knew that Mr. Stark noticed...wanted to talk to him about this. Had mentioned things like "PTSD" and "trauma" and "therapy" but Peter had pretended not to hear those conversations. He was fine. He was just...processing.

The jolt went up his spine, his spider senses sending the warning to his brain a split second before he heard it..a faint rattling. "Morgan!" He cried, holding out a hand as the girl turned to him, her little face surprised and somewhat worried. "Don't move!" He ordered, and she froze. He spotted the movement in the leaves and sprang right as the snake did, wrapping his arms around the girl, throwing them both to the ground. He was as careful as he could be, trying not to hurt her, but that thought was driven out of his mind when he felt the burning in his arm. The snake hissed and rattled, and in the space of three seconds, it struck again, fangs sinking into his upper arms. He gasped, gritting his teeth, then moved before it could strike again.

Reaching out with his other arm, he angled his body over Morgan's so that it couldn't reach her, then grabbed the snake by its neck, glad for his enhanced reflexes as he threw it as hard as he could. Underneath him, Morgan was shaking, her eyes shut tight as silent tears dripped down her cheeks.

"Morgan? Hey...it's okay." He murmured, pushing himself off of her. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm." She brought up a hand to wipe her cheeks, starting to sit up, then staring at the marks on his arm. "Peter?"

Desperately trying to remember everything he knew about snake bites, he smiled at her. "Morgan...I need you to do something for me, okay?"

"Okay." She whispered, nodding. She was only five years old, he reminded himself.

"I need you to run back to the house as fast as you can. But be careful to stay away from the lake, okay?" She nodded, solemn. "I need you to yell for Dad, loud as you can, and tell him that I was bitten by a rattlesnake and need help. Okay?"

"I'm not supposed to walk in the woods by myself."

"I know...but this is an emergency, okay. Can you do this for me? Please?" She hesitated, then nodded.

"Okay."

And then she was up and running, and he fell back, breathing as deeply as he could. His stomach rolled and he stared through the trees at the bright blue sky. Peter didn't know a lot about rattlesnakes, considering he'd been brought up in the city, but he did know that if you moved around a lot of starting getting stressed out, your heart would pump the venom through your system even faster. So he stared at the sky and took deep breaths and tried not to think about what was happening.

On the other side of the lake, he could hear Morgan screaming, and he smiled, vowing to buy her a new toy soon. Mr. Stark would be there soon...he would know what to do. But the world was spinning and he felt his eyes closing as he struggled to stay calm. The four puncture marks on his arm bled a little, and he turned his head to the side to watch the blood drip.

Peter closed his eyes, forgetting why he shouldn't as he opened his mouth to gasp for air that wouldn't quite come. He whimpered a little, his stomach clenching again, and he hoped he wouldn't throw up, because he didn't know if he could turn his head. His whole body felt heavy and weighted down and he needed Mr. Stark. He needed him to be there and save him and he couldn't breathe anymore.

Heads touched his face and he...he was back on Titan! Peter gasped, eyes shooting open as he felt himself fading. No! Not again! He couldn't see the orange sky, but he could see Mr. Stark. The man knelt over him, a hand on his cheek as he stared at the sky and gasped for air. In the background, he could hear Morgan sobbing, and he hated that he was freaking her out like this...but the sky...the sky was so bright blue...so he couldn't be on Titan! He was with Morgan and Mr. Stark and he didn't feel good...and he didn't want to go. Didn't want to leave Mr. Stark and Morgan and May and Pepper and all the others. "Mr...Mr. Stark…" He gasped.

"You're okay. You're alright, Pete. I'm going to get you out of here...I've already called for Bruce. You'll be okay." The man told him, voice firm and unafraid despite the fact that he looked terrified.

"I don't wanna...don't wanna go, Mr. Stark…" He sobbed. The man seemed to lose all color in his face, but he scooped Peter up in his arms, standing with a wince. Peter reached for his shirt, gripping it in his fingers, head thrown back as his head swam. "Please…"

"You're not going anywhere, buddy. I'm going to take you back to the house." He assured him, hurrying through the forest, and Peter could hear Morgan hurrying to keep up.

"Feel sick…" He whimpered.

"Just hold on buddy. Hold on."

"Daddy?" Morgan cried.

"Come on, baby. We're going to get Peter some help." Peter couldn't tell her he was sorry...couldn't get the words out. But he hoped he got the chance soon. He led feel them moving through the woods, could hear the wind rustling through the trees, could feel it ruffling his hair, and then...then he was being sat down and he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. Couldn't keep himself awake, no matter how much Mr. Stark begged and no matter how Morgan sobbed.

And then something poked him in the arm and people around him were yelling and...and when he came to again, the world was silent.

He blinked at the ceiling, feeling more wrung out than ever before, and he wondered if it was after Titan. After that terrible battle that had happened five years apart but to him had felt like one endless day, he had woken up like this, body weighed down and faintly sick.

"Peter?" Someone...Bruce Banner appeared to his left, leaning over slightly so that he could see him. "Can you hear me?"

It was a gargantuan effort to nod, but he managed it a couple of times.

"You're still recovering, but we were able to get the antivenom to you in time."

Antivenom. Snake. Morgan! "Morgan?" He asked, none of the urgency he felt making it out of his mouth.

"She's fine. Just worried about you. Everyone was." He told Peter.

"Time?" He asked, voice raspy as he closed his eyes, fighting to open them again.

"Tony brought you in around noon. It's almost midnight."

"Oh," Peter whispered. "You didn't tell May, did you?"

Bruce sighed, shaking his head. "Tony bet me a thousand dollars that those would be your first words. And no. He said we could mention it when she picks you up. Said you wouldn't want to worry her. The antivenom is working pretty well. We're going to keep an eye on kidney function, and I have you on some pain medicine. I'll give you some pills to take too. Your metabolism has been working overtime, so it's no wonder you're exhausted."

The sound of feet on the stairs distracted him, but he couldn't even turn his head. Could barely keep his eyes open. "How's he doing?" The familiar voice asked, hushed but coming closer.

"He's awake," Bruce told him just as Mr. Stark stepped into sight. The man was dressed in a long sleeve t-shirt that covered most of his new arm. He kept it covered most of the time, although there was nothing much he could do about the scars on the side of his face. Peter barely noticed them anymore, but he knew that Mr. Stark was self-conscious about them. Peter blinked at him, head sunk into the pillow, and the man took a seat beside his bed, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm.

"How you doing, kid?"

"Okay." He murmured, shifting his hand a little, and Tony moved to hold his hand.

"You saved your sister." Mr. Stark told him. Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His sister. Tony thought of Morgan as his sister. He squeezed the man's hand. "The snake got you twice, so there was a lot of venom in your system. But you're going to be okay."

Peter hummed in agreement, glad to hear it but too tired to stay awake for much longer.

"Get some sleep, Pete." The man urged, ruffling his hair gently. Then, to Bruce, "Did I win?"

"Nope," Bruce told him with a chuckle. "His first word was 'Morgan.'"

Peter felt someone brush a hand over his cheek, then squeeze his shoulder just as he was drifting off.

"Of course it was."

Thank you for reading! 


	12. Tear Stained

_Hey kid,_

_Thanks again for watching Morgan for us. There’s plenty of food in the fridge, so have whatever you guys want for lunch. (Pepper told me to have you include at least one vegetable, but I know a losing battle when I see one.) She takes a nap after lunch. She will try and tell you that she doesn’t, but she turns into a little terror if she doesn’t sleep for at least half an hour, so if you could make sure that happens, that would be great. Her bedtime is 8:30 sharp. (As long as she’s asleep by the time we get home, Pepper doesn’t need to know.) We’ll be home around midnight. Don’t worry about waiting up...although I might have leftover cake for you if you manage it._

_Tony_

It wasn’t the first time that Penny had babysat for Mr. Stark and Pepper, but it was the first time she’d watched her for a whole day. The fact that she’d only gotten a one-paragraph note of instructions was a testament to how much they trusted her, as they wouldn’t let anyone else watch the four-year-old. Rhodey had told her as much a few days ago when she’d mentioned that she’d be watching Morgan for the day so that Mr. Stark and Pepper could go on a day-long business retreat. “Wait...they’re leaving her with you for the whole day?”

Penny had hesitated at his tone, trying to hide her hurt. “Yeah. I’ve watched her before.”

“No, I just…” He had waved a hand. “I know you’re qualified, kid. Hell, no one’s more qualified. It’s just, they haven’t left her with anyone for a full day. Not ever.”

It wasn’t that Morgan wasn’t well behaved...she was a great kid. But Penny thought it might have something to do with the Snap....with losing people and with Mr. Stark’s worry that something to could happen to Morgan while he wasn’t there. So the fact that he trusted her...it meant a lot.

It meant everything.

Which was why she needed to make sure she did a good job.

Mr. Stark and Pepper left around eight, right after Penny arrived in her brand new car, which had been a seventeenth birthday present from Mr. Stark. He’d thrown her a party at the lakehouse, her and MJ and Ned and May all joining him and Pepper and Morgan, along with Bruce and Rhodey, all of them eating burgers by the lake and swimming...and then Mr. Stark had led her out to the driveway to show her the brand new car.

No amount of arguing had gotten him to take it back. It had only been about two months after the snap that had brought them all back, so Penny hadn’t argued too much...hadn’t had the heart to.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that he would ever miss her so much.

Penny had made Morgan breakfast, and then she’d taken her out by the lake and had done everything she could think of to wear her out. They’d had a tea party. They’d played tag. Soccer. Catch. Hide and seek. They’d climbed trees. Played with dolls. Pretended to be superheroes. And then, for lunch, Penny had made spaghetti with garlic bread, sure that carbs would help make Morgan sleepy.

And she was pretty sure it was working when Morgan’s eyes started to droop. Instead of going ahead with the dishes, Penny pulled the girl into her arms, letting her rest her head on her shoulder. “I’m not tired,” Morgan muttered, wrapping her arms around Penny like a koala.

“But it’s naptime. And we had so much fun this morning.” Penny told her, keeping her voice soft.

“I want to keep playing.”

Penny carried her into her bedroom, which was right beside Penny’s room at the house. Making sure to keep the lights out, she placed the girl on the bed, sitting down beside her and tucking her in. The four-year-old cuddled the stuffed rabbit that she always needed to sleep, and snuggled into her pillow. “How about this?” Penny asked, brushing her hair back. “How about when you wake up, we take the canoe out?”

“Really? Can we go swimming?”

“It’s too cold to swim, but after we play outside you can pretend to swim in the bathtub? The big one in your parents’ bathroom.”

The girl hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Alright. I’ll see you when you wake up.” Leaning over, she kissed her forehead, then shut the door softly behind her, tiptoeing back downstairs.

It was her fall break and she had at least three college application essays to finish. Mr. Stark kept asking why she was bothering to apply to anywhere besides MIT, but she was also applying to some schools closer to home. Penny was pretty sure that Mr. Stark was going to try and pay her tuition, and her GPA was practically perfect, so she wasn’t worried about scholarships...but the thought of being away from home...it was hard. Ever since she’d come back, Mr. Stark had had her over to his lakehouse at least twice a month, and she was staying for almost the whole week of her fall break.

But she didn’t want to work on her essays. Didn’t want to think about being so far away from everyone she knew. So, making sure she had her cellphone, and telling Friday to alert her if Morgan woke up or started to have nightmares, she headed down to the basement/lab to work on her webshooters or maybe her web fluid. Whichever needed working on. She was happy to play with the chemicals Mr. Stark had on his shelves and in locked cabinets she had the key to.

Grabbing herself a glass of water, she pulled out her webshooters from her backpack along with her notebook with all of her web fluid formulas and sat down to work. She managed to concentrate on her work for a little while, scribbling away and trying to find ways to improve her web formula, but then her elbow knocked into her glass of water, sending it crashing to the ground.

Penny swore under her breath, looking back on instinct to make sure Morgan hadn’t heard, then knelt down to pick up the glass. Underneath the workbench were a couple of old boxes she’d never really noticed before, and now they were splattered with water. Once she got the glass up and swept for good measure, she pulled out the boxes, opening them to make sure she hadn’t gotten anything inside wet. She didn’t feel the same panic she might have felt when she’d first met Mr. Stark, but she still didn’t want to ruin any of his things.

The first box was full of spare parts, and since they weren’t wet, she put it back. But then she opened the second box, freezing when she saw the notebook right on top. A little off the water had dropped onto the cover, and when she pulled it out to dry it off, she couldn’t help but flip through it.

It was a mysterious notebook in Tony Stark’s lab!!

The first page was covered in what could only be described as manic scribbles...and so was the second page. And the third. It took her a minute to realize what they were, and when she did, the knowledge made her stomach clench. Time travel. He’d been trying to figure out time travel...before they had reversed the snap. He’d been trying to get her back.

Penny let herself flip through the notebook one more time, and just as she was about to put it back in the box and forget all about it, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Penny grabbed it, not meaning to snoop but also not able to stop herself. She never could pass up a mystery.

It was a letter.

It was a letter to her, dated months after she had disappeared...almost a full year.

She sat down on her stool, shaking hands holding up the letter. The letter was written in shaky handwriting, and there were blots in the ink. Tear stains. Penny took a deep breath and, ignoring her guilt, read the tear-stained letter.

_Kid,_

_Pepper says I have to stop...stop writing you letters and stop...stop trying to bring you back. I don’t know how I’m going to do that. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live in a world without Spidergirl...without Penny Parker. It’s not fair. It should have been me, Pen. _

_But I think Pepper might be right. I think I have to stop. And it...it feels like a betrayal to even think it, but I have to move on. Because yesterday...yesterday, Pep told me that she was pregnant. We’re going to have a kid and I have to be there for her. I have to focus on raising this kid and just praying that she turns out to be half as good as you._

_I love you, kid. I love you so much. You were my first kid...like, my own daughter. And I was too stupid to see it. Too stupid and afraid to ever tell you how I felt. But I’m never going to make that mistake again. Not ever. I’ll tell my kid every day how much I loved them, and I’ll tell them all about Spidergirl when they’re old enough...about the greatest hero Earth ever had. _

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how much you meant to me and I’m sorry I didn’t protect you and I’m sorry that I failed you. I love you so much. I’ll never forget you, Pen._

_<strike>Tony</strike>. Mr. Stark._

Penny put the letter back in the notebook, which she shoved back in the box under the table. That done, she grabbed her stuff and hurried upstairs, unable to bear the thought of being in the room where Mr. Stark had cried over a letter that he hadn’t thought he’d ever get to give her.

When Morgan woke, she took the girl out on the canoe as promised, taking turns paddling for an hour before she got colds. Then it was time for hot chocolate and another tea party with juice pops and more soccer and tag and hide and seek until it was almost seven. Penny managed to get the girl into a bath where she played and swam around in the big tub, then once she was dressed in pajamas, had her teeth brushed and hair combed, Penny carried her to bed on her back. She read her five whole stories, and by then, thankfully, the girl was half asleep.

“I love you, Morgan.” She whispered, kissing her on the forehead and remembering what Mr. Stark had said in his letter. And he’d been right. He told Morgan that he loved her every day. Played with her. Held her. Read to her. He was nothing like his own father, who she’d only heard bits and pieces about. Still. He loved his daughter. And...and he loved Penny too.

“Love you too. Thanks for playing with me today.”

“You’re welcome. I had a great time.” Penny assured her. “Sleep tight.” And, making sure her night light was on, she slipped out of the room and headed downstairs, sitting on the sofa and switching the TV on, making sure the volume was on low. Her essays were still waiting for her, but she didn’t want to do them. Didn’t want to think about leaving or going to college or all the things that would change. She just wanted to stay here with Mr. Stark and May and Ned and never get any older. Never have to fight another villain or risk disappearing or dying again.

Penny meant to wait up for Mr. Stark and Pepper. She’d meant to stay up and maybe get some of that cake and figure out how to tell Mr. Stark how much she loved him too and how much she appreciated everything he’d done for her. Instead, she felt herself drifting off, and the next thing she knew, soft, familiar voices were filling the room. “Looks like Madame Secretary wore her out.”

She heard Mr. Stark chuckle and she felt him sit down beside her, brushing a hand through her hair. “Mr. Stark?”

“Hey, kiddo. How did it go?”

“She’s in bed.”

“I know.” Penny shifted, and in a move so daring that she wouldn’t have imagined doing it even a year ago, she rested her head on his shoulder and curled up into his side. He chuckled again, wrapping an arm around her and pulling a blanket up over her shoulders. “She wear you out?”

“No. I’m awake. You promised me cake.”

“That I did.”

“Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah, Pen?”

“I love you.” He went still, and she closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t push her off. Praying that things wouldn’t be awkward now. It wasn’t like he hadn’t said it to her before. She’d just...never said it unprompted. Had felt too afraid that he’d be upset or...regardless, she’d said it. And she meat it.

Mr. Stark pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you too, Pen. So much.”

“Thank you for bringing me back.” The man stiffened for just a second, and she turned, throwing her arms around him. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Of course I saved you.” He whispered, resting his cheek on her head. “What brought this on, kiddo? You have a nightmare?” Penny shook her head, sniffling a little and fighting a wave of tears that she refused to let fall. “Hey? What’s going on?” He asked, tapping her cheek.

Penny sat up, lowering her eyes, too ashamed to look at him. She shouldn’t have read his letter. Shouldn't have been snooping. “I...I was in your lab...and I saw...I saw a letter.” She would have thought that she’d need to explain a little more. But he seemed to understand instantly, nodding with his lips pressed together. “I’m sorry.” She whispered. “I shouldn’t have…”

“I’m not angry, kiddo. It...it wasn’t something I should have kept.” He shook his head, relaxing against the sofa and holding her close. “I never wanted to forget about you...never wanted to let you go. And before...I was so stupid, Pen. So afraid to let you in and I hated myself for it. I hated myself for not telling you how important you were to me...for keeping you at a distance. And when I had Morgan...it was like a...a second chance. And...I don’t have to tell you how much I love Morgan. But...god, Pen, it felt like a second chance I didn’t deserve. Because I’d lost my first kid.”

Penny shook her head, but he squeezed her shoulder. “I lost my first kid.” He repeated, eyes huge and more sincere than she’d ever seen them.

“But you got me back.” He smiled, squeezing her shoulder, then holding her tightly when she wrapped his arms around him.

“That’s right. I got you back.”

“I...Mr. Stark, I don’t want to go to college. I’m...I’m scared.” She whispered, knowing that the topic change came out of nowhere and not caring. She might not ever have the courage to say it again.

“Okay.” He told her simply. “You can take a year off. Do an internship with Stark Industries. I’m sure May won’t mind, and I’ll pay you double what I pay you now.”

“What if May...” Penny stopped, finally pulled away and looked up at him with teary eyes. “Wait, you’re paying me?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved her off. “May will be fine. We’ll talk to her. Kid, no one’s going to force you to do this before you’re ready. You’ll have a job with me for as long as you want one. And you’ll always have a roof over your head and enough food to fuel your crazy spider metabolism.” Penny had to laugh. “I’ve got you, Pen.”

“Thank you.” She whispered, a weight lifting off of her chest. It felt like she could breathe again for the first time since she’d seen those college applications.

“I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you too.”

“Wanna eat some cake before bed?”

She grinned, jumping up and holding out a hand. “Yeah.”


	13. Pinned Down

The probability of the Midtown High School Decathlon Team finding themselves in serious danger while on a field trip was pretty low, considering the many variables. Peter might have had less trouble calculating it had he been less distracted. The probability of it happening twice was... well… low enough that Mr. Stark had let Happy go on vacation instead of tailing them. Or, joining him, as Mr. Stark insisted on calling it. It usually irritated Peter that Mr. Stark and May worried so much about him...it was just school.

Right about now, he was wishing that he hadn't been so snarky when Mr. Stark had told him to be careful. At least this time, it wasn't his fault.

The earthquake couldn't have been his fault. No way.

Peter grunted as he came to, looking around the tiny space and wondering what was pinning him down...which was when it all came to him. He'd been in the room...with Flash. He swore to himself, coughing on the dust that surrounded him and was sucked into his lungs. The hotel...he'd been in the hotel. And now...now he was...buried. Under rubble. Again. Peter groaned, head dropping against the ground.

"Hello?" Someone screamed, their voice hoarse and terrified, and it clicked.

Flash. He'd been in the room with Flash. Why? He couldn't quite remember. Either way, Flash was the one screaming.

"Hello? Peter! Is anyone there! I'm stuck! I'm stuck in here!"

Peter's heart clenched. He was stuck under rubble again...but he couldn't panic. Didn't have the time or luxury to panic. Not now. He had to get Flash out. Memories came to him in bits and pieces. He'd run back in to get something. Flash had been there...he'd been running late. And...everyone else had already been on the bus.

That's when the ground had started to shake. And...and…something must have hit him in the head because that's the last thing he could remember. "Flash?" He asked, coughing on the smoke and dust. He couldn't hear any other heartbeats but was sure that other people must also be in the hotel ...in the rubble. He needed to call Mr. Stark and May and...and get Flash out. He took a deep breath and called again "Flash!"

"Peter?"

He couldn't remember the last time Flash had used his first name. And he'd never sounded like that. Afraid and breathless, voice cracking.

"Yeah. You okay?" He asked, trying to sit up and gasping when something in his leg shifted. Was it broken? It sure felt like it. Their room was on the second floor of a three-story motel, but if he could get them to the window, they would be okay. He could climb down and get Flash to safety.

"I'm stuck!" Flash cried.

"Me too. Give me just a second...I think I can get out." He knew he could get out. This wasn't tons of concrete...but it was a lot. And something was wrong with his right leg. Focusing instead and pushing the stuff off of him, he heaved, knocking the rubble off of him and finally getting a good look at his surroundings...and his leg.

It was straight, not turned at an angle like it was broken. But there was metal sticking out of his shin. It looked like it might have been a pipe or...or a rod...either way, it went all the way through his leg. Peter had to close her eyes, taking deep breaths of dusty air to keep himself from throwing up. It looked bad.

He reached into his pocket and checked his phone...it looked bad. The screen was cracked and blinked on and off. He hit the button on the side that would wake Karen and when her soft voice asked how she could help, she told him to text Mr. Stark. "Tell him I need his help. Tell him it's bad."

"Peter?"

"Yeah, I'm coming! Just give me a second!" He called, sitting up and trying to move his leg. He didn't want to pull the rod out, but was able to grab the rubble and pull himself to his feet, gripping something...he couldn't see what it was, but he was able to put all of his weight on his left leg so that he could hobble his way over to Flash. It looked like the floor above them had partially collapsed, and the air was full of dust and the walls were cracked and the window had shattered. There was broken glass all over the floor, and it crunched under Peter's shoes as he stumbled toward the direction he thought Flash's voice had come from, doing his best not to put any weight on his right leg. Blood was leaking from the rebar, but maybe it was the adrenaline or shock or whatever, but he barely felt it.

He was certain he would feel it later. Hopefully Mr. Stark would be there by then. With a doctor. Like Helen Cho or maybe Bruce Banner if he was around.

"Flash?" He asked, hobbling over to find the other boy on his back, forehead bloody, a dresser and part of what had been the ceiling pinning him down. "You okay?"

"I can't get up!"

"Okay...okay." He muttered, looking around. He couldn't put much weight on his right leg...but he had to lift this stuff off of Flash! "Just...I'm going to lift this…"

"There's no way you can…"

"Shut up!" Peter snapped, feeling the earth shake a little. Aftershocks. They needed to get out of this building. In his pocket, his phone buzzed, but he ignored it. He had to save Flash. Even if it meant Flash guessing who he was. What did a secret identity matter if he couldn't save someone? "Just...get ready to move, okay?"

Flash was silent, so he knelt down, careful of his leg, and gripped the edge of the dresser pinning him down.

"You ready?"

Flash swallowed. "Yeah."

Taking a deep breath, Peter forced himself to his feet, lifting the dresser and watching Flash scramble to get out from under the rubble. Flash looked fine, and was moving okay, so he wasn't too worried as he sat the dresser down. "Holy shit, Parker!" Peter glanced at the other boy. "Your leg! And how the hell did you…"

"Doesn't matter. Let's go." He stumbled forward, flinching when his leg buckled. "Go to the window."

Flash stared at his leg for a moment, then nodded, and Peter struggled to follow, staggering before he got an arm underneath him, supporting him as the two made it to the window. He hated to lean on Flash...but he had to. Whatever had been causing his leg to feel mostly numb was wearing off, and every step sent a stab of agony through him. "Just...just a second…" He gasped, right leg buckling once more, and Flash lowered him to the ground amidst the glass beside the window.

"Should...should we pull it out?"

"I have to." He did. Because it was probably rusty and maybe poisoning him, and also he would heal around it if he didn't do something. "Just...let me get you down first."

Mr. Stark had helped him with the tiny webshooter that would fit into a slim metal bracelet, and he slipped it off, sliding it onto Flash's wrist.

"What is…"

Peter ignored him, pressing a button on the side and watching the webshooter pop out and cover Flash's hand.

"Is that…"

"Press this button…" Peter told him, flipping his hand over and pointing to the button that rested on his palm. "It will release a web. Here." He pointed to the windowsill. "Shoot there, then lower yourself over yourself over the side. Press it twice to release when you get to the ground. Then push this to make it retract."

"Are you Spiderman?" He cried.

"Yeah. Don't tell anyone, okay? I'll be right down."

Peter waited for Flash to gather the courage to actually follow his instructions, then sat down hard on the concrete floor, hoping and praying that Mr. Stark would be there soon. In the meantime, he gripped the rod that had gone through his leg, unable to help noting how rusty and gross it looked. It needed to come out of his leg. Getting a good grip, he took a deep breath and, before he could even think too hard about it, he yanked it out.

The world went black.

"Peter! Peter!" Someone was shaking his shoulder and he flinched, trying to get back to the warm darkness he'd been laying in. But the person refused to let him. "Pete! C'mon Underoos! Up and at 'em. Nap time's over buddy."

"No…" He whined, and the man squeezed his shoulder.

"Sorry, but you've got to wake up. Drink this." He opened his mouth, drinking from the straw and tasting lukewarm water. "There you go. Drink up. You with me?"

"I...is Flash okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine."

"He knows…"

"I know. It's fine. He's not going to tell anyone. Now, I need to get you out of here. Helen is waiting in the car. We're going to get you fixed up."

"I pulled it out."

"Tell me about it. You almost bled out, which we're going to talk about later." He slipped a hand under Peter's knees, the Iron Man suit helping him lift him, and he climbed carefully out of the window, landing on the ground right below.

"Ned and...and Betty and…"

"Everyone's fine. They were outside. No casualties. Just a few injuries from the hotel...yours was the worst."

"Oh...good." Peter dropped his head against Mr. Stark's armor, and the man snorted.

"Yeah, you would say that. Come on, Pete. I swear Helen ought to give me a punch card...I should get a free smoothie every ten times I have to take you to the Medbay."

"You're a billionaire, Mr. Stark.

"It's the principle, Pete." The man told him, squeezing him in what might have been a hug before easing him into the car."


	14. Stay With Me

Tony couldn't figure out what was happening. He knew that he was hurting...and there had been some kind of explosion and...and his head was killing him. It felt like he was laying on his back and his head hurt and his whole body felt numb and useless like he'd gone on a real bender or something. But he didn't do that anymore. Not since becoming Iron Man and saving people and himself and...he was sober now, right? He was, like… 95% sure he was sober.

But there had been an explosion and his head hurt and there was something he was forgetting.

"Please...please, Mr. Stark. Please." Tony heard the hushed words as if from far away. Someone somewhere was talking to him...shaking his shoulder. "Please...stay with me. Please...please, Mr. Stark!"

He wanted to say that he was fine...that he was still there. He was...he was there. He had no idea who was talking to him, but they sounded afraid and...and whoever it was, he didn't want them to be scared. Groaning, he tried to open his eyes but couldn't make himself do it. Couldn't get his eyes to cooperate.

"No! Leave him alone! No! Mr. Stark! Tony! Tony, please!"

But he couldn't respond. Couldn't move or speak or even think.

What had he been doing?

The next thing he knew, he was laying on the ground...he was pretty sure if that. His head ached and it was cold and...someone was screaming. A high pitched scream of a teenage girl. A teenage girl.

Penny.

The thought had him jerking awake, sitting bolt upright, the movement hurting every part of him. But that didn't matter. It didn't matter that his whole body hurt and that his head was pounding. Because Penny had been with him. He and Penny had been...had been...going somewhere. But...but they'd been attacked. And…

Where was he? Where was Penny?

He looked around the concrete room he was sitting in, glancing at the bars that took up one full wall, then at the metal toilet in the corner. Prison? But...why would he be in prison? He looked down at himself and realized he was wearing a suit and a tie, all of it filthy and bloodstained. Bringing a hand up, he flinched at the blood that stuck to his hand and the huge lump on the back of his head. Turning over, he got a knee under himself and pulled himself to his feet. His whole body ached but he forced himself to stay upright.

That's when he heard the scream again.

Penny. Penny was screaming. And then she wasn't.

"Penny!" He cried, stumbling forward and grabbing the bars. There was a man dressed in black standing a few feet away, huge gun in hand. "Hey! Hey, where's my kid! Where's Penny?" He demanded, but the guard ignored him, staring straight ahead. "Hey! Dipshit!" The man sighed and turned, pointing his gun at Tony who froze.

"Shut up." He snapped.

"Just tell me where my kid is. Please."

"Shut. Up." And with that, the man with the gun turned and moved to the other end of the corridor. Tony rested his forehead against the bars, then flinched when Penny screamed again. She was somewhere...somewhere far away. And he couldn't get to her. He didn't have his suit or a gauntlet or a gun or anything. He didn't even have his phone.

Eventually, he stumbled back over to the wall, sliding down and closing his eyes, his head sending a new throb of pain with every heartbeat, but it didn't matter. Because they had his kid. And she wasn't screaming anymore...wasn't making any kind of noise. For all he knew she was…

No. He wasn't even going to think that.

They brought her back into the room what felt like hours later, and he felt his heart leap into his throat when he saw her. She was being dragged between two men so tall that her feet barely dragged the ground. Her nose had been broken and blood dripped down her face...and she was soaked. The first guard yanked the door open, then they threw her inside, slamming the cell door and leaving him alone with the unconscious girl.

He raced to her side, dropping to his knees and gripping the girl's shoulder. "Penny? Kiddo? You with me?" The girl didn't respond...she was shaking, teeth chattering even in her sleep. He hesitated...she was freezing, but her breathing was raspy and he worried she'd inhaled water...because he knew what they'd done to her. The same things the ten rings had done to him. But they weren't in the desert...they were in a cold concrete building and she was freezing and cold and…he swore under his breath.

"Pen? Kid, I've got to get you in something warming, okay? You're okay." He murmured, loosening his tie and yanking his jacket off, then slipping the girl's shirt off and averting his eyes as he wrestled her freezing arms into the jacket that he buttoned up, then pulled her to his chest and rubbed a hand up and down her back. "You're okay. I've got you, Pen." He whispered, rocking her a little.

They'd been on their way to the tower in his car...he'd just picked her up from school. And...they'd been attacked.

The girl started to stir a few minutes later, her body curled up in his lap, her head resting on his shoulder. "Hey...hey Pen. Kiddo? You with me?"

"Mhm." She muttered, eyes fluttering as she coughed. He wiped her face with his shirt sleeve, pulling it up over his thumb, not caring about the blood that soaked his shirt. "Mr. Stark?" She asked, voice raspy.

"Yeah, kiddo. It's me. How are you feeling?"

"Those guys suck."

He snorted. "Tell me about it. Bunch of assholes." Her lips twitched into a weak smile, and he brushed her hair back. "What did they want?"

"To drown me." She muttered. He rubbed her arm again, waiting. "He wanted to know about Spidgergirl. And stuff about the compound." She swallowed, then coughed, her whole body shaking as he helped sit up her, rubbing her back. "I didn't tell them anything. I swear…" She gasped out between coughs, and he patted her back.

"I know. Even if you had, I wouldn't have blamed you." He promised, holding her close. "Just breathe, Penny. We're going to get out of here...the others will come for us."

Penny nodded, resting her head against his shoulder. "I was afraid...that they'd killed you." She whispered, eyes drooping.

"Takes more than that to kill me, kid." Tony reassured her. "Stay awake, okay?"

"I'm cold." She buried her face in his shirt and he rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

"I know. Just stay awake, honey."

She did...up until they came back for her, guns pointed at Tony. "No...you aren't taking her." He snapped, gripping her as tightly as he dared. They came forward anyway, guns drawn. "Look, I'll tell you whatever you want. Just leave her alone." One of the guards placed his gun against his temple and Tony lifted his hands, eyes getting uncomfortably hot. "Please...please don't take her. Please. I'll tell you anything. Just don't hurt her."

Penny screamed when one of the men gripped her by her hair, dragging her up to her feet, an arm reaching out for Tony who couldn't help her...who couldn't move because of the gun pressed to his temple and the gun aimed at her. They didn't want him...maybe they just wanted to torture a kid. Or maybe it was a tactic to get to him. Either way, the door was blasted in before they brought her back, and Rhodey stormed in, followed by Steve and Sam.

Rhodey got him out of his cell while Steve and Sam went to find Penny, and when they came back, Sam was carrying the girl. She was still dressed in Tony's shirt, skin so pale she looked like a corpse, lips almost blue. She was shaking in Sam's arms, blood trailing from her nose, and Tony held out his arms to take her.

"I've got her, Tony. Let's get to the jet." Sam insisted, all of them hurrying out of that hellhole and to the jet where Natasha was waiting, reaching out and taking her from Sam and carrying her into the back.

"Let me get her changed, Tony! I'll bring her right back." She promised. Natasha kept her in the back of the jet for a while, drying her off and dressing her warm, dry clothes, then bringing her back so that she and Sam could get her fixed up while Steve piloted the jet and Tony sat on the sidelines, waiting for them to be done and feeling absolutely useless.

When he was finally able to sit at her side, she was still too pale, an IV in her arm, and a bandage taped over her nose. An oxygen mask covered her mouth and nose, and he dropped into the chair beside her, gripping her hand. "You're okay, kid. I'm right here." He murmured, leaning forward as he rested his elbows on his knees.

She woke before they reached the tower, blinking at him blearily and trying to speak but the mask over her face made it difficult to understand her. "Take it easy, Pen. You're alright."

"You...you got us out?" She asked, voice still raspy and faint. He shook his head.

"Nope, that was Rhodey." He brushed some of her wet hair back, squeezing her hand. "But I helped." Her lips twitched a little under the mask. "You can rest, kiddo. We're almost back to the tower."

Nodding a little, she let her eyes slip shut, and he sat guard, mentally preparing himself for the trauma this was sure to cause. He remembered his own experiences with torture...still felt himself get tense sometimes in the shower. But it didn't matter...whatever the kid was going through, whatever help she needed, he'd be there.


	15. Muffled Scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and reviewing! I appreciate your support so much.
> 
> **trigger warning for mentions of sexual assault**

There were days when Peter could forget entirely. Days when his mind never strayed to what happened. And thankfully, these days mostly occurred whenever he was around Mr. Stark. There were lots of distractions during his monthly lab visits and now nearly biweekly sessions spent at the tower...sometimes in the lab, sometimes training with Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodey. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the man actually enjoyed his company.

It had been nearly eight months since homecoming, and he'd done a really good job of not remembering.

Sometimes tiny things would trigger those memories. Seeing the book that had been sitting on his nightstand...The Shining. A hand resting on the back of his neck in just the wrong way. When he woke up with his face pressed into the pillow and couldn't breathe.

He would shove it down as quickly as he could, unable to consider doing anything else. He could never talk about it. Could never dwell on it. Couldn't even breathe when it came back. So he built a wall in his mind and every time it came back to him, he would pretend to add more bricks until that memory was locked away until the next time it came up. He didn't mark the date. Or, he tried not to. But it was there, stamped on his brain like a brand with a hot iron.

It was October 18th.

The thought ran through his mind despite his efforts to shove it back. October 18th wasn't an important date. It was just a day. Just any regular day. It had been a Friday night and May and Ben had gone out on a date. Newly fourteen-year-old Peter had been old enough to stay on his own. He hadn't thought twice of letting the neighbor's grandson in.

He'd thought they were friends...but what kind of eighteen-year-old were friends with a fourteen-year-old?

Spiderman shoved that thought down, putting another brick in the wall, making it stronger. He didn't have to think about it. Didn't need to remember. It was over...he was stronger now and that would never happen again.

It was the scream that brought it back that evening. A muffled scream, a hand pressed to a face to stop the sound...a face shoved in a pillow. He'd saved the woman...the woman who had been shoved against a wall, a man reaching for her purse. Spiderman has saved her. He'd webbed the guy to the ground and had Karen call the cops...and then...and then…

And then he was on a rooftop. Rooftops were safe. Normal people didn't usually get to them. So he could be alone. Just like he'd been alone...the wall was threatening to break but he had to keep it up. Maybe if he stared at the city lights...maybe if he could just count every one of them...maybe he could make the wall stronger.

At some point, Karen's voice came to him, gentle and almost hesitant...and then, there was another sound. Words like 'acute distress' and 'hyperventilating' that seemed to be coming from somewhere else. The hand on his shoulder was sudden and terrifying on one level, but on another, it barely registered. He burrowed deeper, closing his eyes behind his mask and gasping for air.

It wasn't real. It wasn't happening. He was safe. The roof was safe. It had to be. He was strong now. Stronger than anyone that would hurt him. But he couldn't make himself move. Couldn't make himself respond. Because her grandson had come into his home and then into his room and...and…

He could remember every second. Every painful, disgusting second and...and he couldn't make it stop.

"Okay, Underoos. I'm going to take your mask off, okay? Is that okay?"

How was he supposed to know?

A finger slipped gently under his mask and pulled, careful of his hair, and a hand rested on his shoulder as a face appeared in front of his. But how was he supposed to count the lights if he couldn't see them?

"Hey, buddy. It's Tony. Can you hear me?"

Peter didn't respond. Couldn't get his eyes to focus on the man when his brain was in his old bedroom on the day that May and Ben had gone on a date.

"Friday, his pupils are huge…did someone give him something? Any drugs in his system?"

"I can't tell without analyzing a blood sample, boss." He heard the man's AI tell him.

Mr. Stark swore under his breath and the old lady's grandson forced his face into a pillow...he couldn't breathe. He tried, wheezing and gasping for air, and two hands gripped his shoulders, a face coming a little closer. "Peter, buddy, look at me. Please, kiddo. Just look at me. Focus on me."

"I...I…". Peter gasped out, shaking his head as tears started to fall, but he couldn't make any more words happen. It hurt...he hadn't understood why and it had hurt so much and he was sobbing, shaking his head and pleading, sucking in air as if through a straw. "Please...please don't….please...stop…"

"Stop what, Peter?" Mr. Stark practically begged.

"It hurts...please…"

"Where's he hurt, Karen?" He demanded. Peter closed his eyes, waiting for it to be over. Waiting for it to stop. Not much longer. It had to end soon. Please, please let it end soon, he begged but wasn't sure if he'd spoken aloud.

The voices outside of his head continued, and he shoved his hands over his ears, rocking and sobbing and wishing it would stop.

"Peter, I need you to listen to me." Mr. Stark murmured in a voice gentler than Peter had ever heard from him, a hand on his shoulder squeezing just a little. "C'mon, kid. Please. Listen to me. Can you hear me?"

Could Mr. Stark make it stop?

He kept his eyes shut tight but nodded.

"Okay. Good. I'm going to have Karen turn on your heater." As he spoke the words, his heater came on, and he realized that he'd been freezing before...that he was shivering. The temperature was dropping seemingly by the minute and he was so cold. "It's almost 2am...May called me."

He didn't want to see May. Didn't know how he could face her with these memories.

"I'm going to call and tell her that I found you. Do you want to come back to the tower?"

Peter didn't know. Didn't know how to answer a question that he didn't fully understand.

"I want to have you checked by medical."

"No." He gasped out, the first word he'd coherently spoken. He didn't want anyone to touch him. Didn't want anyone else's hands on him. He could barely tolerate Mr. Stark's.

"Why not?" The man asked. Peter tried to focus. Tried to force the brick wall back up. Tried to make it strong again. But his couldn't get out of that bedroom.

He needed to get out...or he would die. He couldn't stand it anymore. His whole body hurt and he needed to get out but he didn't know how! How did he escape from someone that he hadn't seen in two years?

"Kid, I can't help if you don't talk to me." The quiet statement had him jolting to attention. Could he really help?

He couldn't tell Mr. Stark. Not about this.

_If I don't get someone to help me carry this, I'll die under the weight of it._

"Help me." He whispered, meeting the man's eyes finally. "Please...please, can you help me?"

"Of course I'll help you, Peter. Tell me what's going on and I'll fix it."

"I don't know if you can." Be admitted.

"Well, I can try." Mr. Stark moved a little closer, the hand moving from his shoulder to grip his hand, grounding him just a little."

"May and Ben went on a date two years ago," Peter whispered, dropping his head as the tears started again. His shoulders shook with the sobs, but he had to keep going. "I stayed home."

"Okay,". He could almost feel Mr. Stark nod, his thumb rubbing the back of Peter's hand.

"My neighbor's grandson was visiting her. He was eighteen." Somehow his voice was steady.

"Yeah?"

"We'd been hanging out...he...he was nice and…". Peter felt like he was going to throw up, and he brought his knees to his chest, hoping to hide. Needing to hide. "I was so stupid. I should have known."

The hand holding his gave a firm squeeze, and he squeezed back.

"I let him in. We went to my room. He said he had a new comic book to show me. But...but then…"

Peter couldn't make himself say the word that tasted like stomach acid.

"It hurt." He finally whispered, body tense and muscles so tight they ached. Slowly, the man beside him began to inch closer, the hand still squeezing his as an arm wrapped carefully and slowly around his shoulders. And as soon as he was enveloped in the man's arms, his head against his shoulder, Peter couldn't hold back anymore.

He didn't recognize the voice that whimpered and sobbed and insisted over and over that he'd said no...that he hadn't wanted it. And the man held him, letting Peter grip the front of his shirt with fingers that ripped it.

Finally Mr. Stark spoke, his voice a soothing murmur. "I know. I believe you. I know you didn't want it. I'm so sorry, Peter. I'm so sorry he hurt you. I'm so sorry." He let Peter cry for minutes or hours or days...he had no idea. Either way, he cried until his eyes were dropping and his muscles couldn't hold anymore and he slumped against Mr. Stark, silent tears still streaming down his face. "Did you ever tell anyone?" He asked.

Peter shook his head. He remembered the older boy leaving. Remembered the door shutting behind him with a soft click. Remembered getting in the shower and staring at the wall for a very long time while the water had rushed over him...then scrubbing his skin raw. He remembered curling up on his side in bed, pulling the covers over his head and pretending to be sick for the rest of the day, and all weekend.

Ben and May had been concerned but he'd assured them that it was just a cold. Just a little stomach ache.

He'd scrubbed himself raw every day for a week...and he'd built the wall. Brick by brick he had constructed it, and he had thrown himself into school and band and clubs and his friend and then...then they'd gone on a field trip. Then he'd become a superhero.

Then he and May had moved into a new apartment, right after he'd returned from Germany.

"Okay...we need to tell May." Before Mr. Stark had finished his sentence, Peter was shaking his head. "Pete…"

"No." He made his voice final and hard and cold, and the man sighed.

"Kid, May needs to know why you were out so late tonight. I told her I'd find you...she's really worried, Pete." He closed his eyes, trying to make himself small...wishing he could just disappear. "Why don't we go back to the tower, and I'll call her. Would that be okay? You don't have to do it."

Peter hesitated, then, since there was no way Mr. Stark was going to let this go, he nodded. "Okay," he whispered. The man nodded, standing and holding out a hand that Peter took, stumbling as he stood. His legs had gone numb, and he wondered how long he'd been there.

"I've got the car waiting on the street. You want to put your mask on?"

He nodded, feeling numb and cold all over, and Mr. Stark put an arm around him, steadying him, then stepping back into his suit. Peter put an arm around him, clinging to the suit as the man lowered the both of them to the ground.

The car ride to the tower seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, Peter curled up in the passenger seat, knees to his chest, his head resting on the window. Mr. Stark didn't speak or ask him any questions, just turned up the heat and turned the radio on low.

They were the only ones in the tower, and Peter kept his suit on as they stepped into the living room of Mr. Stark's floor. Peter felt like he was living in a vacuum...like something in his head was humming and he couldn't figure out what it was but...but he'd told Mr. Stark his worst, most disgusting secret and the man had just held him. And now he didn't know what to do. He didn't know what happened next. The man seemed to understand his confusion and reached out to grip his shoulder. He was still wearing the mask and felt kind of dumb since they were in the tower, so he yanked it off, holding it in a clammy fist.

"Why don't you go take a shower and get changed. There are clothes in your room, and an en suite bathroom. And you should probably get some sleep."

As if in a daze, Peter nodded and went to the familiar bedroom that had been set aside just for him, taking a shower and trying not to listen to Mr. Stark's conversation with his aunt. He'd never wanted to tell her...had never wanted to see the look on her face once she knew what had happened to him...disgust and pity...he could imagine it. And he didn't know if he could stand it. But he climbed in the shower, letting the hot water warm him up and soothe his tired, achy muscles. Then he changed into pajamas, but instead of climbing into bed, he went back into the living room where Mr. Stark was sitting on the sofa.

He wasn't on the phone anymore...he was watching TV, and he glanced up when Peter entered, patting the sofa beside him. "Feel any better?"

Peter shrugged, dropping onto the sofa, noticing at the last minute that his hands were shaking. He shuddered a little, closing his eyes and dropping his head back against the cushion. He didn't know what to say...didn't know what he was supposed to do next.

"Are you hungry?" Peter shook his head. "I spoke to your aunt."

He shuddered then, closing his eyes and feeling his stomach clench.

"She told me his name." Mr. Stark didn't say it, though. Peter was grateful. "I'm going to take care of it, okay? I'm going to make sure he goes away...and you won't have to say anything to anyone."

The man scooted over a little, draping a hesitant hand around Peter's shoulders, and Peter turned his face into his chest, unable to stop shivering. The next thing he knew, Mr. Stark was pulling a blanket off the back of the sofa and wrapping it around him. Waiting.

"I don't feel good." He whispered, closing his eyes and tucking himself against Mr. Stark's side.

"I know, buddy. You're going to be okay, though. I've got you."

"I don't know what to do now."

Mr. Stark seemed to understand what he was saying, rubbing a gentle hand up and down his back. "Right now, you need to get some rest. I've already made inquiries about him, so you don't need to worry about him. May is worried about you, and she's upset, but she's not angry with you. She loves you. Nothing that happened was your fault, Pete."

Peter felt his eyes start to close as he slumped against Mr. Stark. The man shifted a little, grabbing a pillow and placing it on his lap for Peter to lay down. He did, bringing his legs up and curling up on his side. He felt safe there, covered in a blanket, Mr. Stark's hand resting on his side, his stomach finally starting to settle.

"I didn't want her to know," Peter whispered as Friday dimmed the lights. "I didn't ever want anyone to know."

"I know, Pete." He tucked the blanket more securely around him. "But there was no way we could have helped you if we didn't know. I'm proud of you for telling me, kiddo."

Mr. Stark brushed his hand through Peter's hair, and he felt a sob start deep in his throat. Closing his eyes, he tried to stop it...tried to stop the tears that filled his eyes, but he was so tired...he didn't have any strength left to fight it, so he just closed his eyes and shook with the sobs that he couldn't fight. Mr. Stark kept running his fingers through his hair, rocking him back and forth just a little as he held him.

"It's okay...you're gonna be okay, Pete. I've got you."

"I'm sorry…" Peter choked out between sobs, but he just kept rocking him.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. You can cry. It's okay. I'm right here. Everything's going to be okay."

He had no idea how this was going to be okay. No idea how he could ever get past this now that May and Mr. Stark both knew, but he trusted Mr. Stark. Trusted that the man could somehow help him get through this. And he was so, so tired. So he shut his eyes, letting the feeling of his fingers running through his hair put him to sleep.

Maybe everything would be better in the morning.

_ **Thank you so much for reading!** _


	16. Trembling

Penny had never been someone that felt comfortable in her body. It didn't seem to come naturally for her the way it did for her friends. Ned never showed an ounce of self-consciousness when he went back for seconds at dinner when the two of them ate together, and MJ was too interested in academics and philosophy to care much about her 'physical form' as she put it. More than once, she'd gone off on tangents about how women were expected to keep up this image of themselves and were pressured by media to feel bad about themselves and Penny always felt too self-conscious to admit that she did feel bad about herself.

She didn't think she was overweight, exactly. She felt healthy and especially after the spider bite, she could swing around the city and fight crime and keep up with the Avengers in training. But even though she felt physically fit, she didn't really look it. Sure, she had muscles and everything...but her stomach was soft and a little pudgy. Her chest was small, torso straight like a boy's, and she couldn't help but compare herself to Natasha with her lovely curves and six-pack abs. Despite running and training and fighting crime, she didn't look like that.

Penny knew that it wasn't supposed to matter. Other people had it harder than her...she'd never had trouble staying relatively thin and wore smallish sizes in pretty much everything despite the fact that she was eating all the time now, thanks to her spider metabolism.

It all came to a head in the cafeteria. She'd skipped breakfast because she'd hit snooze a few too many times that morning and was starving, so she loaded up her tray with two chicken sandwiches, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, two cartons of milk, and two cookies, and then proceeded to inhale it...all of it. That wasn't even the most she'd ever eaten in one sitting, but since she would be swinging around the city and fighting crime later, she wasn't too worried about excess calories.

And then Flash had walked by.

"Geez. Slow down there, Penny Porker."

And then everyone had laughed.

Not Ned or MJ, of course. But everyone else at the surrounding tables, even if it was just a giggle or a guilty chuckle hidden behind their hands. MJ said something nasty to him and chased him off, but suddenly, Penny didn't feel hungry anymore. She stood, shoving her tray away and leaving the cafeteria, hating how dramatic it all felt but also unable to stop the tears filling her eyes. She knew it was stupid to let him get to her. She knew high school rivalries and fights didn't really matter and that she was Spidergirl and that that was the part of her that mattered.

All of that knowledge didn't stop her from sitting on a toilet seat with her knees tucked up to her chin and sobbing in the bathroom, though.

It was MJ that came and found her, getting down on her hands and knees and crawling under the stall, for once not making any snarky comments about the filthy floor or the fact that Penny shouldn't feel pressured by society to look a certain way or any of that. Instead, she just wrapped her arms around Penny and rocked the both of them back and forth. Penny hid her face in her friend's shoulder and tried to stop sobbing, but MJ just held her. Finally, after about five minutes of that, MJ spoke.

"I'm gonna slash his tires, okay?"

Penny nodded, the laugh bursting out of her.

"And I'll see if I can sneak some laxatives into his food later."

"Thank you." She whispered, wiping her face and refusing to meet her friend's eyes.

That was the day she went out and bought the shakes.

They were supposed to be 'complete nutrition' shakes...only 200 calories. The box promised that if you replaced two meals with them, that you would lose weight. Not letting herself think about the fact that she needed more calories than the regular person, she bought three boxes and hid them under her bed. It would be fine, she told herself. She would drop a few pounds and get rid of her stomach, work out more, and then no one could make fun of her for eating, or the way she looked.

It wasn't hard at first. Every time she started to feel hungry, she remembered Flash's smirk and the way everyone had laughed. She would pull her shirt up and look at her soft stomach and flat chest and remind herself of how much she hated her body...how ugly it was and how much she needed to change it. She would have a shake for breakfast and one for lunch, which she'd started spending in the library. She didn't want Ned or MJ to figure out what she was doing. Didn't want them to worry. Not that there was any reason to. They sold the shakes at the supermarket, so there was no way they could be dangerous. The FDA had to approve all that stuff, right?

Anyway, after about two weeks of shakes for breakfast and lunch and picking at her dinner, plus the crunches and planks and pilates videos she'd been doing in her room at night, Penny started to see a difference. She didn't quite have abs, but she could see her collar bones a little better, a fact that gave her inordinate amounts of joy. Sometimes, when she was swinging around as Spidergirl or fighting local criminals, she would start to feel a little dizzy...but she could see her hip bones and was able to fit into a small pair of jeans, so it was worth it. She figured her body just needed to get used to the changes. She didn't feel sick or anything...just a little woozy if she stood up too soon. And she'd been spending a little less time as Spidergirl to compensate.

When she looked in the mirror, she felt like she looked better. So she bought another box of the shakes.

She usually trained with the Avengers once or twice a month, and when Mr. Stark invited her to the tower a week later, she was excited. Leaving a note for May who would be working a double shift, and sending her a text just in case, she climbed into the car that he'd sent for her, waving hello to Happy as she made herself comfortable in the back seat. He glanced at her in the rearview mirror, then paused, eyes narrowing as if trying to figure something out. "Hey, kid. You feeling okay?" He asked, pulling out onto the street.

"Hm? Oh, yeah! I'm fine. How are you?" She asked, trying to be polite.

"I'm fine, kid." He muttered, eyes finding her again and again in the rearview mirror. It was a Saturday morning, and although she felt like she hadn't gotten quite enough sleep, it didn't matter. She got to train with the Avengers, which was one of her favorite things to do, so she could deal with a little sleep deprivation. She thought she might just eat lunch with the team after...not too much, but just a few slices of pizza. And maybe a soda. That would help wake her up. Maybe she'd even ask for a soda before they got started.

The caffeine would help.

When they reached the tower, Penny climbed out of the car and hurried to the elevator and throwing a wave over her shoulder. She heard Happy snort behind her as she stepped into the elevator, but as soon as the doors close, she found herself slumping against the wall. She was tired...more tired than she'd thought at first. Her head spun, and her hands were trembling...Penny shook her head to try and clear it. She was fine. Everything was fine.

When she reached the training floor, she felt a little more stable. Everyone was waiting for her, most of them stretching or chatting around the mats that sat on the floor to cushion the inevitable falls. Mr. Stark was the first to spot her. He smiled, moving over to her side and throwing an arm around her. "Hey, kiddo. You ready?" She nodded, about to ask for that soda...and maybe some crackers, when Steve called for their attention. Not wanting to slow them down anymore, she followed Mr. Stark over to where the others were waiting.

And then they paired off.

Penny loved sparring with Thor. He was by far her favorite to fight with. With everyone else, even Steve, she tried to pull her punches...tried to hold back. But Thor was almost as strong as she was, and when the two sparred, more often than not, the others would stop and watch. At first, Thor had been hesitant to fight her...something about her being a young girl half his size...less than half. But it had only taken one punch from said small young girl to convince him that she could take whatever he could give. Still, they never tried to injure each other...never went all out.

Penny was glad for that on that day.

The two squared off on one of the mats. Mr. Stark was paired with Natasha on the other side of the room. Steve and Clint had paired off, while Bruce watched from the sidelines. He was always on standby, just in case anything went wrong and they needed a doctor. Plus, as he'd explained to Penny, it was usually better that he not get too excited...or angry. She'd never seen him angry enough to become the Hulk, but she didn't think she wanted to.

Penny did her best to focus, ducking a punch and throwing one of her own. She felt like she was moving through jello, her body refusing to move quickly enough to land her punch. Thor swung again and she ducked, a little slower this time, then brought a foot up. She managed to slam it into his side, knocking him back a step or two.

And then she hit the floor, head cracking against concrete.

People all around her were talking and she flinched at the sound. She was shaking...her whole body was shaking, teeth chattering, hands trembling. Hands turned her head a little, then slipped something under it. Something soft.

"I didn't hit her...I never landed a punch…"

"Give me her hand." Someone else said as the world swam around her, and something sharp poked her in the finger. The person swore...and then she was being lifted, held against someone's chest and carried...and then she was out again.

When she came to again, it was to the sound of beeping and the feeling of a hand resting on hers. She blinked up at the ceiling a few times, swallowing and trying to remember what she'd been doing. Hadn't she just been sparring with Thor? Had she won?

"Penny?" Someone asked, squeezing her hand, and she turned her head to find an IV pole...and Mr. Stark.

"What...what happened?" She asked, a little surprised at how weak her voice sounded.

"You collapsed." He told her, jaw tight. "Your blood pressure was too low and you were hypoglycemic. Bruce ran a blood test and you're also malnourished." Penny swallowed, lowering her eyes. "What's going on?" He asked, a little gentler.

She just shrugged. "I just forgot to eat breakfast and…"

"No way, kid. That's not going to cut it. Even if you skipped breakfast and dinner last night, you wouldn't have lost fifteen pounds since I last saw you." Penny refused to meet his eyes and he reached out, slipping a finger under her chin. "Look at me." He murmured. She finally did, cheeks flushed. "What's happening, Pen? Talk to me. Do you guys not have enough food? Do you need money or…"

"No!" Penny shook her head, eyes wide. She couldn't have Mr. Stark going to May about this. "I'm fine. I just...I've been…" She trailed off, blushing even harder at the thought of explaining to Tony Stark that a boy in her class had made fun of her for eating too much.

"What, kiddo? Are you sick?" He urged. "I need to know what's going on if I'm going to help you."

"I don't need help."

"You are hypoglycemic and malnourished." He spoke slowly, enunciating each syllable incredulously. "You collapsed in the middle of training. You scared the shit out of Thor. There's no way I can let you swing around the city like this, Pen. What if you pass out while you're fighting some criminal or swinging from the rooftop?"

"I won't."

"You will. We've had you on fluids and nutrients for an hour and you're still shaking."

Penny closed her eyes, sighing softly.

"Kid...Pen...I'm on your side, you know that right? Whatever's going on, I can help. I work from home and have unlimited resources. You just have to talk to me."

Seeing no other choice, she sighed. "I...I've been drinking weight loss shakes." Penny all but whispered.

The man hesitated, and when he spoke, his voice was gentle. Kind...but also worried. "Pen...honey, you didn't need to lose weight. You just got a physical from Helen a month and a half ago. She said you were healthy...hell, she said you probably needed to eat more. Your metabolism is faster than Cap's. What's going on?" He asked again.

Ears burning, she dropped her eyes. "Flash...he was making fun of me at lunch and…". She trailed off, eyes getting hot, and the man moved to sit beside her, a hand on her shoulder. She didn't dare meet his gaze, too humiliated to keep the tears from falling. "I just wanted to look...better." She whispered.

"Kiddo…". He murmured, a hand running through her hair. She tried to hold back the sob but couldn't quite manage, and he gathered her in his arms, rocking her back and forth, careful of the IV.

"I know it was stupid…". She sobbed. "But everyone laughed at me...and...I just...I thought that if...if I lost weight then...then it would be better."

He rubbed a hand up and down her back, letting her cry until she was able to catch her breath and calm down. "You don't need to lose weight, honey. Flash is an asshole and I'm contemplating ruining his life, but what you need to focus on doing right now is getting healthy again. That means no more of those shakes, no more dieting…we're going to contact a nutritionist that we can trust, probably Helen or one of her people, and they can help us figure this out." She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder, and he patted her on the back.

"I'm sorry I freaked you out." She whispered, but he shook his head.

"You don't have to apologize, honey. Thor was more freaked out than I was." She snorted, surprising herself with the laugh. "Really, it's going to be okay. I promise." For a moment he was quiet, rubbing her back and rocking her a little. Then he pulled away, brushing hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. "Now, the team is dying to see you, but first, are you hungry?"

She hesitated, then nodded, wiping her eyes. She was so, so hungry. Had been hungry for three weeks now.

"Alright, kiddo. Food, and then we can assure Thor that he didn't accidentally kill you...unless you want to play the meanest prank of all time." He suggested with a mischievous smirk.

She laughed out loud that time, shaking her head. "I couldn't do that to Thor."

"Yeah, yeah, he's your favorite. Whatever. Friday, have someone bring us some food, will you?"

"Thor isn't my favorite, Mr. Stark. You are."

He seemed to freeze for a second, then smiled, eyes soft and so full of love that she almost couldn't believe it. "You're my favorite too, Pen."


	17. Laced Drink

Peter Parker shivered a little as he wrapped a blanket around himself, staring out at the lake and smiling a little as he heard Morgan and Pepper talking inside. He'd come out about an hour ago, pulling the blanket off the sofa and curling up on the rocking swing on Mr. Stark's porch. He had to go back to the city in a couple of days. Back to school and back to Academic Decathlon and the Europe trip and...back to his life.

But Mr. Stark would still be here. At the lakehouse. With Morgan and Pepper.

Not that he begrudged him that. Mr. Stark had finally gotten his family...his real family. The Avengers had kind of failed him when Peter had shown up and the whole Accords thing had been happening, and Peter...well, Peter was someone he cared about a lot. He'd missed him and had hugged him and told Peter how important he was to him. He'd told Peter that he was sorry for everything, even though none of it had been his fault. And now...now Mr. Stark had a real family.

Peter didn't want to impose. Hadn't even wanted to come to the lakehouse for the week, despite Mr. Stark insisting. Everything was different now. There was Morgan, who Peter loved and who obviously loved him back...but also Mr. Stark and Pepper. They were parents, and they loved Morgan more than anything. Not that Mr. Stark didn't still care about him...it was obvious that he did. The man was kinder now. Softer. And it was great, really!

But Peter couldn't help feeling left out.

He didn't want to feel this way. Didn't want to feel jealous of Mogan who had both of her parents and would never know what if felt like to disintegrate on a dead planet in the middle of nowhere. Who had Mr. Stark as her father.

Peter shook his head, trying to clear it. He would need to go inside soon, or they would start to worry. Mr. Stark had taken a phone call from Rhodey, and Pepper and Morgan were making cookies a few feet away in the kitchen. The sun was going down over the lake and Peter had to admit, it was beautiful. Part of him didn't want to go back. Part of him wished that he could stay here...stay here and pretend.

He wiped a hand over his face, berating himself for being stupid. He had May...he loved her so much and he wouldn't ever want to leave her. But there had been times when he and Mr. Stark had been working together that he'd started to think of the man...well...as a...father figure. He'd never said it out loud, of course! Had never even thought it too loud for fear of Mr. Stark overhearing his thoughts or somehow reading it in his face. And now...now he could never say it.

The door opened, and Morgan came out, both hands curled around a mug that she held out to Peter with a smile, walking slowly and carefully. "Peter, we made hot chocolate."

"Hey, Morgan. Thanks." He leaned over, taking it carefully from her hand, and she jumped up on the swing beside him. "How are the cookies coming?"

"Mommy says they're almost done. Do you think Daddy will be done soon?"

Peter took a sip of the hot chocolate, then a gulp when it warmed him up, and then sat it down on the table beside him so that he could lift the blanket and wrap it around her. She cuddled up next to him, her head on his arm, and he wrapped his arm around her. She was a cuddly kid, and really sweet, and he didn't know how anyone ever could resist loving her. "Yeah, I'm sure he will."

"Mommy said that I could stay up late and watch a movie tonight. Will you watch it with us?"

Peter grabbed his hot chocolate, taking another drink and letting the hot liquid warm him up. "Sure." He told her, smiling when she rested her head on his shoulder, pulling her legs up and laying on him. It was hard to remember why he'd been jealous of her...hard to maintain any kind of negative feelings about her when she was curled up against him like this, smiling up at him and holding out her hand for a sip of his hot chocolate. Peter handed it to her, ready to catch it if she dropped the heavy mug, then took it back when she was done.

"I put a special secret ingredient in it. Can you tell?" She asked.

"Really? A special secret ingredient?" He swallowed, then took another drink when his throat itched a little. "What is it?"

"That's the secret part! You have to drink more to find it."

That was fine with him. His throat was itchy and getting a little tight, so he took another swallow, finally spotting the peppermint stick at the bottom. "Oh...peppermint." He whispered, stomach dropping. Peppermint.

As in, the thing you used to repel spiders.

"Yeah! Daddy gave me some in my hot chocolate yesterday and it was really yummy so when we were making hot chocolate I remembered that I had some peppermint left and I put it in as a surprise!"

"It was a great surprise…" He tried to smile as his stomach revolted, not wanting to scare her. He was about to tell her to go get Mr. Stark who hopefully had something that would stop what was about to happen when vomit filled his mouth and he jumped to his feet on instinct, not wanting to throw up on Morgan. His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees at the edge of the porch, his cup slipping through his fingers and falling onto the grass as he started to throw up in the bushes, stomach heaving.

"Peter?" Morgan asked, her voice small.

"I'm okay." He rasped, every heave making his stomach cramp painfully, but his throat felt strange...like it was closing up. Shit. He needed Mr. Stark! But he couldn't get the words out between heaves.

"Peter...what's wrong?"

He was done throwing up...but it felt like he was getting his air through a straw and he brought a hand to his throat. He turned to Morgan, wondering if she could hear his heart race. "Morg…" He started, but couldn't get any more words out. He started to list sideways, crashing to the floor, mouth open as he clawed at his throat. "Mo…"

"Peter?" She shook his leg a little, tears filling her eyes as she looked around wildly, lips trembling. "Peter!"

He wanted to tell her to get her mom...but his tongue felt too big for his mouth and he was wheezing for air that barely came.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Morgan jumped to her feet. "Mommy!" She screamed, tripping in her haste to get inside, then yanking the door open. "Mommy! Daddy! Help!"

There were spots in Peter's vision, and his fingers clawed at the deck, body jerking as his lungs screamed for air. He wanted Mr. Stark! He needed him! Tears filled his eyes and he sobbed, which didn't help his oxygen situation.

"Morgan? What's wrong?" He heard Pepper ask, and the dark spots started to connect in his vision.

"It's Peter! You have to help him! He threw up and now he can't breathe!"

The door was thrown open then, and Pepper's face seemed to swirl in front of him. "I...I…" He tried, mouth open, desperate wheezes all he could manage.

"Oh god...Tony!" Pepper cried, squeezing his shoulder. "Morgan, honey, what happened?" She asked, starting to prop his head up a little. That helped a bit, and he managed to suck in some air, his torso jerking as he fought to breathe. Mr. Stark's footsteps came running, the door was thrown open once more, and then the man was kneeling beside him across from his wife.

"Peter? What happened?" He demanded, his face pale.

"I...I gave him...hot chocolate…" Morgan sobbed in the background. "It...it...it was special and...and I put...pe...peppermint in it…"

"Fuck!" Mr. Stark all but screamed, a shaky hand pressed to Peter's cheek. "He's allergic...shit!"

Morgan was practically wailing in the background, and Mr. Stark seemed to be having as much trouble catching his breath as Peter. "I didn't mean to! I..I didn't know…" She was sobbing, but as far as Peter could tell, neither Pepper nor Tony answered her, and he wanted to assure her that it wasn't her fault, but his lungs hurt so badly and he was so afraid.

This had happened once at the tower...not to this extent, though. He'd started to eat a candy cane and his mouth had instantly gone numb. When he'd started to cough, his throat had gotten tight, and he'd dropped the candy on the floor, knees giving out as he gripped the countertop. Mr. Stark had raced down to the medbay, leaving Peter in the kitchen for only a moment before returning with an epi-pen that he'd jabbed into Peter's thigh. Then he'd gotten him down to the medbay, even though he'd felt fine, and one of the doctors had kept him on an IV for an hour to make sure he was okay.

But Peter didn't have an epi-pen.

"He...hel…" Peter tried to beg, fingers digging into the deck, splinters working their way into his hands as he struggled. "Da...dad…" He gasped, tears slipping down his cheek.

"Hang on...hang on, buddy. We need to get him to the hospital right now!"

"Does he have an epi-pen? Do we have any…" Pepper seemed to plead as Mr. Stark picked Peter up, resting his head against his shoulder.

"I don't have one here! Call the hospital! Tell them we're on our way...tell them what happened. Call Helen!" He barked, racing down the stairs with Peter in his arms. "I've got you, Pete. We're gonna get you some help. You're gonna be okay…" The man's voice broke as he eased Peter into the front seat, taking half a second to recline it a little, then jumped into the driver's seat, slamming his foot on the gas.

The only sound for a moment was Peter's desperate wheezing, and Mr. Strk reached out and gripped his hand. "I'm here...I'm here buddy. It's okay. You're gonna be okay, honey. I'm here. I'm gonna get you help. Try to breathe...please...please try to breathe…fuck!" The man took a shuddering breath, the hand that held Peter's shaking. "Friday...is anyone close by? Could anyone meet us?"

"Sam Wilson is…"

"Call him now!"

One thing that Peter knew about Mr. Stark's lake house...it was in the middle of nowhere...at least thirty minutes away from the closest hospital. The world was going dark at the edges, and every inhale was harder and harder...it felt like he wasn't getting any oxygen at all...no way he'd make it thirty minutes.

The phone rang three times before Sam Wilson answered, but before he could finish the snarky comment he answered with, Mr. Stark was practically screaming at him. "I need an epi-pen! Now!"

"Where are you?" The man asked, going serious. Peter knew that Sam had been a medical...person or something. He had first aid training...right? Did that mean he'd have an epi-pen? Peter couldn't think...his hand squeezed Mr. Stark's but then he let go...he couldn't risk breaking his hand. A pained whimper escaped his throat and he arched his back, desperate to find a position that allowed him to breathe.

"I'm leaving my house...Peter...I'll need more than one! He can't breathe and...I was afraid to fly him but…"

"I'm on my way. Have Friday send me your location!"

The phone clicked and Peter dug his fingers into the armrest, dropping his head back and wheezing, whining and letting out another sob. He didn't mean to cry...but it felt like he was dying. He tried to call for Mr. Stark but couldn't get the words or even syllables out anymore, so he just closed his eyes, slamming a hand down on the armrest as his chest throbbed in desperation.

"You're okay. You're going to be okay, Peter. I've got you...Sam's on his way. It's okay...I'm not losing you. Not again...I can't...I can't…" He heard the man's breath catch and he wanted to squeeze his hand again but couldn't find it. Couldn't do anything but wheeze and gasp and take in tiny swallows of air that only made his chest hurt more. "It's okay...it's okay, honey. It's going to be okay." He half-sobbed, and as if from far away, Peter felt him squeeze his knee again.

It was strange...he felt almost numb, heart racing, vision going dark. Mr. Stark swore again, viciously and colorfully as Peter's head swam. The wheezing was getting softer and softer, and he no longer had the energy to arch his body or throw his head back, and his head fell forward, chin resting on his chest.

"No! No! Peter! No...wake up!" A hand gripped his chin and yanked his head back, the car racing along the street as fast as it could go. "No...not him...shit...please...please, God not him! Please! I can't!" The man next to him was crying, and it was wrong because Mr. Stark never cried...and Peter didn't want him to cry over him. Didn't want him to be sad.

And then the car screeched to a halt. The hand holding his head up moved and his chin dropped again. "Hang on...hang on, Peter." Mr. Stark urged, and his passenger door was yanked open.

"Here! Someone leaned over him, and then something was stabbing him in both of his thighs through his jeans for a long time.

And then, miracle of miracles, he could breathe.

His throat opened a little and he sucked the air in, wheezing desperately for oxygen that was coming now. "There you go!" Mr. Stark cried, gripping his shoulders and leaning over the armrest, pressing his forehead to Peter's. The man's eyes were red, hands shaking as he gripped Peter's face. "There you go, baby. Breathe...just breathe. You're okay." He closed his eyes, rocking the both of them back and forth as Peter dragged air in.

"We need to get him to the hospital." Sam put in, reaching out and gripping Peter's shoulder. "Let's put him in the back seat...I can drive." Before Mr. Stark could say anything, Sam slipped his hands under his knees and back, lifting him easily, and Mr. Stark scrambled to get out of the car and yanked the back door open.

Too focused on the fact that he could breathe, Peter barely noticed Sam lowering him into the back seat, but then Mr. Stark was climbing in beside him from his other side, pulling him into his arms and rocking him back and forth. Sam climbed into the front seat and they were off again. "Pete? How are you doing, buddy?" Mr. Stark asked. His head was resting against the man's chest, practically on his lap, Mr. Stark's arms around him.

Peter nodded, still gasping for air. His throat was a little tight, but he could breathe, and that was all he could ever ask for.

The man pressed a shaky hand to the side of his hair, dropping his head and resting his forehead on the top of Peter's. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry Peter. I never...never thought she would…" He trailed off, chest jerking as he sobbed, and for a moment, all Peter could do was listen to the man cry softly, gripping him as tightly as he could as Sam sped them to the hospital.

"'S okay…" Peter rasped after a moment, unable to stand it anymore. He couldn't be the one that made Mr. Stark cry. "She didn't mean to...it's okay…"

The man shook his head but held him a little tighter. "I love you, Pete...I love you so much. I can't lose you. Not again."

Peter rested his head on his chest, shifting a little, unable to keep his eyes open anymore. But he could still talk between gasps for air. "I love you too."

When they pulled into the hospital, Helen Cho raced out, barely sparing Sam a glance until he started talking. Behind her, two men rushed out with a gurney. "We were able to get two epi-pens in him about twenty minutes ago and he's breathing better."

Mr. Stark slipped out from under Peter, standing, then leaned back into the car to pick him up. Peter wanted to tell him not to hurt his back but he was so tired. "Hey, buddy...stay with us. We're gonna get you some more medicine...you're gonna be okay."

Peter felt himself dropping off, the world losing focus, but at least he could breathe. "Love you...Mr. Stark…" He whispered, needing to say it again...needed the man he thought of as his father to know.

"I love you too, buddy. I'll see you in a few minutes." The man whispered, brushing his hair back...and then he was drifting away.

The sound of sobbing woke him up, and he forced his oddly dry eyes open. Blinking a few times and swallowing, he glanced around, finding an IV bag hanging close to his head...and Pepper sitting at his side, Morgan in her arms. The little girl was crying inconsolably, and Peter frowned.

"Mo…" He coughed, closing his eyes for a second and taking a deep breath. "Morgan?" He asked, trying to sit up a little more but failing. His chest was sore and his throat ached...but he needed to comfort her. So he reached out a hand. Pepper gave him a watery smile, then patted her daughter's back.

"Look? Look, baby. He's awake. He's okay." Morgan turned her little red face, tears pouring down her cheeks.

"Peter?" She asked.

He nodded. "Yeah...I'm okay. Come here."

"Be careful, baby." Pepper cautioned, setting her down on the bed so that Morgan could crawl into his arms. He hugged her as best he could, careful of the IV.

"I'm okay, Mo. Promise."

"I'm so sorry...I didn't know...that it would make you sick." Morgan sobbed into his shoulder, and he dropped his head back against the pillow, still so tired.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean to. And I'm okay now."

"You were so sick...and you couldn't breathe and Daddy was crying!"

"It's okay now. Everyone's okay. Where's your dad?"

"He went outside to talk to Uncle Rhodey." She told him, a little furrow in her brow. He started to ask her what was wrong but Mr. Stark chose that moment to step inside, eyes widening when he saw Peter holding Morgan, the both of them turning to look at him. Something passed over his face then...something Peter hadn't seen before. "Hey, Mr. Stark."

Mr. Stark blinked a few times, then smiled, eyes so full of love that Peter was taken aback. "Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. Can I get some water?"

"Of course." The man jumped to grab the pitcher beside the door, pouring him a glass of water and holding it out to him, a hand on Morgan's back.

"Daddy?" She asked.

"Yeah, baby?"

The term of endearment took Peter by surprise and he suddenly remembered Mr. Stark calling him that...remembered the man holding him and begging him to breathe...and crying.

"If Peter's my brother, why doesn't he call you 'daddy' too?" She asked with the air of someone who'd wanted to know for a very long time.

Everyone froze, and Peter immediately dropped his eyes, face flushing. He was ready, he told himself. Ready for Mr. Stark to break it to her. It was really sweet that she had thought that she was his brother...but he was ready for them to tell her the truth. He wouldn't get upset. He wouldn't let it hurt.

To his surprise, Mr. Stark came and sat on the bed, reaching out and pulling his daughter onto his lap. And then he shifted, moving to sit beside Peter, careful of the IV. "Because he's not really related to us." Mr. Stark told her, voice soft. She peered up at him, solemn and a little sad, but the man went on. "I love him very much, and I think of him as your big brother, but Peter lives with his aunt, remember? She's like his mom."

"You said that his mommy and daddy died." Mr. Stark flinched a little, glancing over at Peter who refused to lift his head.

"Yeah...they did." He said softly, patting her back.

"So now you're his dad?"

Peter had to smile a little, raising his eyes just a little. Mr. Stark was watching him, lips pressed together, eyebrows lifted like he was asking a question. Like he was asking permission.

Peter nodded, eyes hot, lips twitching a little in a hopeful smile.

Mr. Stark lifted an arm and wrapped it around Peter, pressing his lips to his temple. "Yeah, baby. Now I'm his dad."


	18. Hallucinations

Penny Parker had been gone for three months when she appeared to Tony in his lab.

After the snap, after Thanos had been killed by Thor and after Tony had woken up in a hospital bed with Pepper and Rhodey at his side, all he'd been able to think about her. Penny. She'd followed him to space.

And she'd died out there, along with half the universe.

Earth was in shambles...hell, the whole universe was. But all Tony could think about was getting her back.

He'd been working nonstop for eighteen hours, which was, by no means, the longest he'd been awake and working. He had no plans of stopping...no plan to go upstairs and eat or rest like Pepper wanted him to. His fiancée had been texting him for the last hour or so, asking when he was going to join her for dinner...or breakfast. He wasn't entirely sure. He had a job to do...a kid to save. Penny Parker had only been there because of him! And now he had to get her back.

He was waiting for Friday to run the calculations on his newest hypothesis when he turned and found her, legs swinging from the table where she always worked. He'd cleared off the whole table for her one day, setting up a tablet for her to use, and it was still covered in parts for her webshoter, a notebook containing what he knew where Chemistry notes and web formulas, sat forgotten beside a lamp.

Tony's heart stopped for a second, his jaw dropping, and he blinked several times, desperate to make it stop...or for it to be real. If he could have her back, some selfish part of him whispered, then maybe he could rest. One way or another, he had to get her back. It was the first thing he'd said to Cap...he'd lost the kid. He'd lost Penny. And he was going to get her back. It just meant he would have to invent time travel, which was seeming more and more impossible by the day.

"Pen?" He asked, voice dry and cracking from disuse. Pepper was worried about him, he knew that much. The whole team was. And possibly for good reason. He didn't care. He had to get his kid back...no matter what it took. He couldn't stop thinking of her...couldn't stop remembering her telling him she didn't want to go. The ways she'd looked up at him and...and the way it had felt when she'd crumbled to ash. How she'd apologized to him as though she had anything to apologize for...as if this hadn't been his failure.

It haunted him. And so, it seemed, did she.

"Hey, Mr. Stark." It was her voice. Her smile. Her nerdy t-shirt with the periodic table on it telling him that she made puns 'periodically.' Her scuffed tennis shoes swinging as she kicked her feet.

"What...what is this?" He asked, looking back at the workstation he'd been using to check for... something. Alcohol or hard drugs or anything that would explain this hallucination. Because it was a hallucination. It had to be. Penny was gone. He'd watched her disappear in his arms and he'd felt it and...and...she was gone!

"What do you mean?" She wondered, cocking her head. "It's me."

Tony took a step toward her on instinct, an arm outstretched. It was Penny! She was here...all he had to do was reach out and touch her arm and…he froze. He couldn't try to touch her, he realized. Couldn't bear to try and hug her and find out that this wasn't real. His heart couldn't take that.

"Mr. Stark?"

"I miss you." He whispered in a voice that broke. For just a second, it didn't matter that she wasn't real. He didn't care. He just needed to say it.

She nodded, dropping her eyes for a moment. "I know. I'm sorry."

Tony was shaking his head before she could even get the words out. "No...no, honey. You don't have to be sorry...it wasn't your fault."

Penny shrugged. "If I'd gotten the gauntlet…"

"You shouldn't have even been there!" He cried, slamming his hand on the table, the words bursting out of him. It's what he had wanted to say while she'd been fading into dust. She shouldn't have been there! She should have been safe!

The girl didn't jump...didn't even flinch. But she looked so sad. "I would have died alone. At least I got to be with you." He closed his eyes, pinching his nose and taking deep, deliberate breaths. This wasn't real. It wasn't real. She was gone and no matter what he was seeing…

"It hurt." The girl whispered, and his eyes filled, a tear slipping out despite his best efforts. Just likeTitan. "I could feel it. The others couldn't...but my body fought it…and I could feel it."

"Stop!" He all but screamed. "Please...you're not...you're not her! She's not here!" There was a long terrible silence, and then he looked up, part of him afraid he'd made her disappear. He hadn't. She only watched him, her long hair tied up in a ponytail...it was frizzy and messy and half-hearted as most of her ponytails were. Her feet had stopped swinging, and she rested the soles of her shoes against the side of the table.

"You should get something to eat. You've been down here for hours." She whispered, lips tugging up in that sad, worried smile that she'd always give him when he was working himself to death.

He reached out a hand to her, then turned on his heels, determined to eat and get some sleep. This wasn't real. It was a delusion, and it wasn't healthy...it wouldn't help him get her back.

* * *

The weeks passed, and somehow life continued on without Penny Parker. Bruce checked on him every other week or so, and sometimes Nat or Rhodey would call. Pepper stayed with him at the compound on their floor, the two of them sticking close to one another. She worried, he knew. She worried that he was working too hard...throwing himself into fixing this until there would be nothing left of him.

He was. But he couldn't stop.

One night after hours spent in the lab, Tony jerked away from a nightmare at two in the morning, eyes aching as he stared at the ceiling. He was so tired...his whole body craved more sleep. But he couldn't. Couldn't face watching his kid die again and again. She'd been so afraid...and he hadn't even said anything! Sometimes in his dreams, he did better. He comforted her. He held her close and kissed her temple and promised that it would be okay.

But it wouldn't.

So he slipped out of bed, leaving Pepper to rest. She'd been more tired than usual that night, and had been feeling kind of sick, so he made sure to tuck the blankets around her and headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Penny was standing by the fridge, staring out the window at the wilderness below. It was pitch black, the sliver of moon tucked behind dark clouds, so he jumped a little when he switched the light on. Penny only gave a little smile and turned as if she'd been expecting him. She leaned against the counter, one bare foot propped against it, and regarded him in silence for a long time.

"You're...you're not real." He told her as if that would make a difference.

"I loved you. You knew that, right?"

His stomach twisted itself into a knot. Her voice wasn't cruel...he'd never heard the girl speak cruelly to anyone. It was matter-of-fact and a little sad. Still, he nodded. Of course, he'd known. How could he not have? It was clear in the way she looked at him, eyes almost worshipful when she watched him work, but full of something else when they just spent time together. Fondness. Happiness. Love.

"Movie nights were my favorite. I cried the first time you texted me and asked if I wanted to spend the weekend at the compound. Not Spidergirl...just Penny. I couldn't remember ever feeling so happy."

"This isn't real," Tony whispered to his empty kitchen, his voice resigned. "You're not here, Pen."

"I was too afraid to tell you. To say it out loud. I almost did a few times. Remember when we watched Coco, and you cried at the end?"

Tony nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. "Yeah."

"I almost told you. But I remembered hugging you in the back seat of your car...and you telling me we 'weren't there yet'."

Those three words made him flinch. "I'm so sorry." He hadn't wanted to hurt her...hadn't wanted to get hurt himself after so many of his friends had betrayed him. But so many times since he'd asked himself why he couldn't have just given the kid a hug. It wouldn't have hurt anything. Instead, he'd embarrassed her...had hurt her.

"So I didn't say it." She sighed, meeting his eyes and giving him that sweet, sad smile. "I can say it now, though. I love you. So much. I looked up to you and...and sometimes, when we would work together or watch movies, I'd pretend that you were my dad." Tony closed his eyes, feeling his throat close up. He wasn't going to cry. He couldn't. Not now. He could still save her.

"I love you too, Penny." His voice was raspy and his fingernails dug into his palms with the effort of not reaching out to her. She wasn't real, he reminded himself. She was a hallucination. Still, he had to comfort her. Had to tell her that he loved her...because he did. He loved her so much he would tear the universe apart to get her back. "Pen...I'm...I'm going to fix this. Okay? I'm going to get you back."

The girl just smiled...just kept smiling, looking so sad and resigned that it nearly broke him. "Everything's upside down, Mr. Stark." She told him, her voice barely audible.

He blinked, narrowing his eyes and trying to figure out if he'd heard her right. "What…". He started, right before footsteps made him jump and turn around to find Pepper in the doorway.

"Tony? What's wrong?"

"I just…". He glanced back into the kitchen only to find that the girl had vanished. "I needed a glass of water." He told her, stepping into the arms he held out to him automatically.

"You're crying." She whispered, touching his face and wiping a tear from his cheek. So he was.

"Just...a nightmare." He dismissed, giving her a quick kiss. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." Pepper rested her cheek against his and they held each other for a long time. And then he went back to bed to dream about his kid again, just like he did every night.

* * *

When he found out that Pepper was pregnant a month and a half later, he cried. He cried because he was happy and he cried because he'd lost his first kid and he cried because now he would have to stop.

In his dreams that night, Penny screamed at him. Called him a liar. She told him that he'd promised to save her and that he was abandoning her. And he dropped to his knees and sobbed and pleaded and tried to make his dead child understand how much he'd loved her...that he'd never forget her.

That morning, he washed his face in the bathroom sink with shaking hands and went to make breakfast for Pepper, mostly to give him something to do, only to find Penny on his sofa. She was in pajamas as if she too had just woken up...the Iron Man ones he'd bought her for Christmas just last year. She'd been in that exact same place a million times...but she wasn't here now, he reminded himself.

She'd never be there again.

"That wasn't me." She told him as if continuing a conversation they'd just been having. He stared at her, his heart heavy.

This was crazy. He was crazy. He probably needed some kind of professional help. Penny Parker was dead! She'd been dead for months and...and she would never sit on that sofa again. She'd never speak to him or work in the lab with him and...and every single item on that list was like a stab to the heart but he had to face it! Had to acknowledge that he was hallucinating.

He had to move on now

Penny turned to face him, draping her arm over the back of the sofa, her expression earnest. "You know that wasn't me. That's what you're afraid of...but it's not me."

"This isn't you either." He reminded her...or himself. Whatever. Still, he spoke just as gently to his hallucination as would have to the actual girl.

She shrugged like that was irrelevant. "I would never blame you. Not for this. I always knew you'd be the best father."

Every rational part of him said to leave the room...just go make breakfast and stop indulging whatever insane part of him kept conjuring the girl. Instead, he lowered his voice. Gave in just a little. "What if I mess up?"

"You probably will." She shrugged again. "All parents do, I guess. All aunts and uncles and mentors. But you're going to love her. So much. That's what's going to make you the best father."

"Her?" He asked, the smirk appearing on his face feeling almost unfamiliar.

Penny laughed, the sound breaking something in him. "Well yeah. Don't you think? Little Maguna."

He chuckled, eyes wet, and he wiped them quickly before Pepper showed up again and saw him crying. "Morgan. Works for a boy or a girl."

That's when it hit him...there's no reason Penny could have ever known that he had picked that name.

He'd never mentioned it. Not to her. Only to Pepper. And himself.

She wasn't real.

And he'd known that she wasn't real...but the knowledge still hit him like a punch in the chest. Like a shield slamming into his heart. "You're not real." He whispered, his voice breaking into a sob. "You're...you're not really here. You're dead! She's dead, and this is a hallucination." He covered his face with his hands, rocking back and forth for a moment while he took deep breaths, desperate to calm down.

"This has to stop, Penny! I have to stop!" He dropped into the sofa, barely having noticed that he'd been moving closer to her...closer to his dead child...to the girl who had clung to him as she'd broken apart into dust on a dead planet so far away from her home.

"Mr. Stark?" She asked, and it was almost like he could feel her hand on his shoulder. Almost...but no cigar. Isn't that what his dad had always said? "I'm...I'm sorry…"

"Go away." He begged, digging his fingers into his hair. "Just...just go away!"

"But...it's upside down!" She cried.

"That doesn't fucking mean anything!"

"I don't want to go. Please...please sir...I don't wanna go!"

"Shut up!" He half screamed, jumping up and grabbing the closest object, a glass vase full of flowers that Pepper had brought home the day before. Spinning on his heels, he threw it at her as hard as he could.

It shattered on the wooden floor, shards of glass covering the carpet along with the flowers and water, and he heard Pepper calling for him. Most likely wondering what the hell he was doing.

Penny sat on the sofa and stared at him with huge, tear-filled eyes, a hand pressed to her cheek. When she moved it, a thin cut ran across the right side of her face, blood dripping lazily onto her pajamas. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Tony!" Pepper called, hurrying into the room. "Tony? What happened?" She demanded, breathless.

Tony shook his head, turning away from the silent girl on the sofa and burying his face in her shoulder. "I still see her." He whispered, voice breaking as he sobbed into his fiancee's shoulder. "I keep seeing her."

"Oh...Tony…". Pepper rocked him a little, running her fingers through his hair.

"I want to move." He told her, making up his mind. He needed to be somewhere else...if he was going to raise a child (daughter, his brain whispered in Penny's voice) then he needed to be somewhere else. "We'll buy a place in the country. A farm...we'll have chickens and...and a garden and...and I'll chop wood and…"

"Okay," Pepper whispered. He blinked at her, taken aback.

"Okay?"

"I can do my meetings on the phone...drive into the city when I have to. Let's get a farm."

When he turned around, Penny was gone.

* * *

Two days after they brought Morgan home, Tony woke early to the sound of her crying and rolled himself out of bed, whispering to Pepper that he had it...that she could go back to sleep. His little girl cried and whimpered from her bedroom, and he hurried in, scooping her up and holding her close to his chest.

"Hi...hi, Morgan. Hi, baby. It's okay. I've got you. Daddy's got you," he murmured, rocking her back and forth. She blinked up at him, tiny fists opening and closing, and he carried her into the kitchen to grab a bottle.

Penny was waiting for him at the kitchen table. "I knew you'd be good at this."

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. Penny looked...right! She just...she looked right, sitting at their kitchen table. "Penny…"

The girl was unchanged, hair still in that same messy ponytail. She wore a hoodie and jeans, her chin resting on one hand as she stared at Morgan, a tear spilling from her eye and running down her cheek. "I wish I could have met her."

He closed his eyes, then looked down at his baby. A tear dripped from his own cheek to Morgan's forehead and she batted an arm irritably. "So do I." He whispered, knowing that the girl would be gone when he looked up.

She was.

* * *

He thought he caught glimpses of her sometimes. She was never any older...she always wore her hair in a messy ponytail and she was always smiling...just like he wished she was. Once, he saw her sitting on the floor beside Morgan who was playing with some wooden blocks, the older girls face full of adoration. Another time, he looked out his front window and saw her petting Gerald, eyes wide with wonder. She never would have seen an alpaca before.

He never spoke to her, and she never approached him.

* * *

Tony stood at the sink, washing the supper dishes and trying to push the thoughts away. The visit from the others had been unexpected to say the least. While Pepper tucked Morgan into bed, he would clean the kitchen, and then...and then...nothing. And then he would sit up with Pepper for a little while, maybe finish the novel he'd started the day before, and then they would go to bed.

He picked up a spoon, checking the dishwater for knives, and grabbed the spray nozzle, pulling it out from the side of the sink. That's when Penny appeared. Tony's hand jerked as he jumped in surprise, spraying the spoon with the nozzle and sending water spraying everywhere. He swore, dropping the spoon and staring at the girl.

Penny hadn't aged in the last five years...her hair was still in the messy ponytail, and she wore pajamas...not the Iron Man ones...the Hello Kitty pajama pants she'd ended up loving along with an oversized sweater. "Shit, kid." He whispered, more resigned than angry. This was his own fault, he reminded himself. When Morgan had been two, he'd finally gone to a therapist to talk about his hallucinations. He'd even had some tests run to make sure it wasn't a brain tumor or something equally traumatic.

She'd suggested that he didn't want to let the girl go. He'd nearly rolled his eyes. Of course he didn't want to let her go. He didn't even know how to! That was his kid! His first kid! The girl he'd grown to love and think of as his daughter and then she'd died in his arms after begging him to help her...after telling him over and over that she didn't want to go. She'd cried! And now...now he was just supposed to forget?

He would never forget. But he had another child to look after now.

Penny grinned, leaning against the counter by the sink. "Hey, Mr. Stark."

It was because the team had come...because in some small part of him, he had hope. Which was ridiculous. There was no hope. It had been five years. His first kid was dead, and he would never stop missing her, but that didn't matter because she was gone.

(Unless maybe…)

"What's that gray stuff in your hair?"

He dropped the nozzle, pinching his nose and smiling a little, eyes filling as his heart clenched. Had it really been five years? "It's gray hair, Pen. I'm old now."

She laughed, the sound exactly how he'd remembered it.

"You'd be twenty-two."

"Think I would have gone to college?"

"Of course you would have." Tony scoffed, giving in for just a moment. "You'd be at MIT right now...and...and I would have...I would have visited you. Brought Morgan and May…" He shook his head. "I miss you, honey. I...I miss you so much."

Penny tilted her head a little, then turned to the shelf he'd soaked with water, her eyes lighting up. "You keep a picture of me?"

"Of course I do." He murmured, wiping his eyes and grabbing the photo. Tony wiped it with the dishtowel, then paused, staring at the picture he'd avoided looking at so many times. It was him and Penny, her in a too-big jacket, holding the internship certificate. Upside down. Glancing back up at her, he saw the smile growing on her face, eyes almost proud. "It's upside down."

Penny nodded. "It's upside down."

"If I inverted it…" He started, then abandoned the dishes, racing back down to the basement

She followed him down to the lab, sitting on the bottom steps as he worked, watching with that same smile she always watched him with. And he knew why. He knew why she was always looking at him like that...why the hallucination was always looking at him like that. Because he wanted her to be happy...wanted to replace that terrified expression he'd last seen her with.

When Friday told him that it would work, he placed a hand over his mouth, shaking his head. "Well shit." He muttered.

"Shit!" He whirled around, startled, but Penny was gone, and Morgan sat in her place.

* * *

Tony opened his eyes and groaned, the beeping irritating the shit out of him. He was in the medbay...he'd woken up there enough times to know it immediately. He just didn't know why. His brain felt fuzzy and his head pounded. Groaning, blinked a few times and tried to swallow, his throat like sandpaper.

"Mr. Stark?" The voice made him jump a little, and he turned to find Penny Parker at his side.

She wasn't a hallucination. He knew that immediately. In his hallucinations, the girl had almost always been smiling and happy. Dressed in her usual clothes with her hair in a ponytail. This girl looked like she'd gone ten rounds with the Hulk with a bloody nose and a busted lip, her face riddled with bruises. But she was real! Penny Parker sat on a chair at his bedside, hair sticking to the side of her face as she cried.

"Penny." He breathed her name and it all came back to him. The battlefield. Wrapping his arms around her for ten too-short seconds only to be ripped away from each other as the battle had raged. And then...snapping his fingers. I am Ironman...those wouldn't have been terrible last words. But this...this was so much better.

"I thought...I thought you weren't going to wake up." She sobbed, covering her face with her hands. For the first time, he noticed that she was on his left side...and that he had no feeling in his arm on his right side. They didn't matter, though. He lifted his left arm by force of will and reached for her.

"Pen...come here, kid. I can't get up right now." He urged, and she stood from her chair, moving closer so hesitantly that he wanted to scream. He just waited, though. Waited until she was close enough to reach, and he grabbed her arm, pulling until she was sitting on the bed beside him. Without prompting, she curled up at his side, fingers gripping his shirt as she cried into his chest.

"I thought you were dead." She sobbed, as though the words could still be true if she spoke too loudly. He knew the feeling.

"I'm not dead. I'm okay, Pen." He told her, squeezing her as tightly as he could and ignoring the tears that ran down his own cheeks.

"They say it's been five years." Tony couldn't quite read her tone...couldn't tell if she was afraid or upset or just confused. Still, he nodded.

"Yeah, honey. It's been five years."

"And...and you have a daughter!" She cried, pulling away just enough to look at him.

He wanted to tell her that he had two daughters...that one of them had just come back from the dead. But he didn't ...wasn't sure she'd be okay with that. "Did you meet her?" He asked instead.

She gave a shaky laugh and nodded. "She asked if I was her big sister." He didn't laugh. Didn't even smile. Just looked at her solemnly and with wonder...it was a miracle. He'd gotten his kid back. The hallucinations hadn't done her justice. This girl was real and solid and...and she was his kid. "I...I told her, um, that I kind of was."

He nodded, squeezing her to his side again and pressing a kiss to her temple. "Good."

_ **Thank you so much for reading! ** _


	19. Bleeding Out

Peter didn't know if he would ever figure out how the man had gotten to the main floor. He worked for Mr. Stark...Peter had seen him around. Had seen him talking to Happy and had even smiled and waved at him once or twice when he'd caught his eye. Now that Peter was returning to the Tower after school every day, he saw him more and more, and his senses had never gone off around him. They never went off at the tower at all, come to think of it...not until that day.

It had been eight months since he'd lost May. Eight months, and he still didn't know how to function without her some times.

Mr. Stark had been great. That's what Peter thought as he stared at his wrists, blood draining from his body and dripping onto the tile floor. Mr. Stark had been so great. He'd taken him in. He'd become like a father figure, taking over his guardianship and letting Peter mourn while making sure his life stayed on track.

And now, he would find Peter on the bathroom floor covered in his own blood...he would think that Peter had done this. And he would be so heartbroken...would blame himself. Would think that he'd missed some sign or hadn't been around enough. That thought, more than anything, kept him awake...kept him struggling to keep his eyes open and his head upright against the wall.

He'd arrived home that day to an empty floor, which wasn't unusual. Pepper worked until six or seven most nights, and Mr. Stark…(he'd told Peter to call him Tony, Peter remembered as he tried to lift his arm to grab the sink. It wouldn't lift. His whole body was just so heavy all of a sudden)...Tony sometimes had meetings that kept him until at least five, although he had tried his best over the last few months to schedule everything for the morning so he could be home when Peter got back from school. Today, he wouldn't be home until six...maybe seven.

Peter wouldn't last that long. He knew that much. And as much as he wanted to do something about it, his body was demanding sleep, eyelids closing.

The soda had been open. Peter left half-drank sodas in the fridge all the time...he'd start one at night and finish it the next day. Had never seen a reason not to. It wasn't like anyone else was supposed to have access to their refrigerator...not like he should have to worry about that.

The soda had tasted off, but Peter had just chalked that up to it being flat. Tony had teased him about his weird habit a few times…asked him why he couldn't finish a soda when he could eat a whole pizza by himself in one sitting. But Peter had downed the soda, carrying the mostly empty can to his room. And then he'd sat down on his bed...or he'd tried to...but then he'd dropped, knees buckling. Head slamming against the floor and making him dizzy.

For a moment, he had just laid there...had just blinked at the carpet in front of his face and tried to puzzle out with an increasingly fuzzy brain what was happening. Why he'd fallen. But the drug had already been coursing through him at that point. It had already been too late.

"Friday?" He'd called. He never wanted to bug Tony at work... but something had been wrong. Something had been wrong...and he'd needed Tony. Needed the man that had become something of a father to him and who would help him...but Friday hadn't responded. "Friday!" He had called again, voice slurring, eyelids drooping.

That's when the man whose name he didn't know had come into his bedroom as casually as if he lived there, whistling to himself and grinning at Peter. "Don't get up on my account." He'd joked, ignoring Peter's glare and reaching down for his pants. At first, ice-cold terror had run through Peter's veins, but then he'd just reached into his pocket and had pulled out his cellphone, dropping it on his nightstand.

"Wha…" Peter had tried to ask, but the man had just grinned, grabbing his arm and dragging him like he'd weight nothing, not stopping until he reached Peter's bathtub. He had propped him against the wall, head resting on the tub, his hands on Peter's body making him shudder. He'd wanted to scream or shove the man away...had wanted to run. But his body had been limp and useless.

That's when he'd pulled out the razor blade.

"Friday? He tried again, his voice weak and hard to decipher. Too much blood. There was so much blood pooling on the floor and every second he felt weaker and weaker, his eyes rolling around the room as his head lolled.

She didn't respond. What had the man done to Friday? How could he have done anything to her? How could he have had access to Friday? Even Peter couldn't access her code, and he was pretty sure Tony trusted him.

The man had left once he was done, leaving Peter on the floor in a growing puddle of blood. He was bleeding out...bleeding out on the floor of the bathroom and Tony was going to find him and he would be heartbroken. He would think that Peter had wanted this.

He didn't want it...but he couldn't stop it. There had been something in the soda. Something...something that had made it so hard to move or think...which meant the man knew who he was. Knew what he was. Had known enough to give him a dosage that would put him out of commission for what felt like a very long time.

Tony was going to blame himself for this.

"Systems rebooting," Friday spoke in a flat voice, and Peter dropped his head against the side of the tub.

"Fri? Friday? Get Tony. Get Tony. Get Tony." He whispered it over and over, voice breaking. "Get Tony. Friday, I need Tony. Get Tony!" And finally, she responded.

"I have alerted boss to your condition and he is on his way."

Peter let his eyes close then, dropping his head against the tub, sure that Tony would save him. "Thanks, Fri."

His sleep didn't feel like sleep. He didn't dream. Didn't feel time pass. He just closed his eyes, and then he was being shaken awake, a frantic voice really close to him.

"Peter. Peter, come on...come on buddy...don't do this. Please...please baby...come on."

Peter groaned, eyes fluttering as something wrapped around his wrist. "'Ony?" He asked, hopeful.

"Yeah, buddy. It's me. I'm right here." His voice broke a little and he placed a hand on his cheek.

"'M cold." Peter whimpered.

"Okay. Hang on." Tony must have taken his own jacket off, because the next thing he knew, he was being wrapped in it. Peter's head dropped against the wall with a soft 'thud' and he flinched.

"Hurts…"

"I know. I'm going to get you to Helen. I'm getting you some help."

"I didn't...I didn't…"

"It's okay, buddy. Just stay with me. Just stay awake."

"No...To...Tony…". He slurred, reaching for him and gripping his sleeve. The man paused, and Peter forced his eyes open. Forced himself to meet Tony's eyes. "I didn't...didn't do it…"

"What?" The man asked, brow furrowed. "Peter, it's okay. We're going to get you help, okay? I've got you. You're going to be okay."

Peter felt his head drop, chin hitting his chest, and Tony scooped him up holding him tightly in his arms. The man was still talking when everything went black.

When he woke the next time, he was in a white bed in a white room… and there was something wrapped around his wrists. Not just bandages...something soft that kept him from lifting his arms. He groaned, pulling hard, but the thing refused to give, and his eyes shot open.

He was cuffed to a bed.

Peter's breaths started coming in gasps and he tried to sit up, mouth open as his chest heaved. He was strapped down...he couldn't get up! Had that man come back? He knew who Peter was! And he had drugs that could paralyze him. "No...no, no...Tony!" He screamed, voice hoarse and raw. "Tony!" Tears started to run down his cheeks but he could barely feel them...his whole body ached and his head hurt and his mouth was dry and he was strapped down! How had the man found something that would hold him?

"Pete?" Tony's voice made him pause, and he looked around the room, desperate to find him.

"Tony, I need you to stay out here until I can…"

"He's screaming for me! Now move out of my way Helen or so help me…"

"You called me!" Helen hissed. "You asked for my help. Now are you going to let me help him, or should I just go?"

Suicide?

That's when it clicked. The soda. The man. The memories. He lay back on the bed, closing his eyes and forcing himself to breathe deeply. He had to talk to Tony. He had to explain.

But would Tony believe him?

"I'm coming in too," Tony told her, his own voice as hard as steel, and Peter was glad. He wanted Tony.

The door to his left opened and he turned his head, watching as Doctor Helen Cho and Tony stepped into the room. Tony looked awful, with red-rimmed eyes and wild hair, as if he'd been running his hands through it all day. Immediately, Tony was at his side, a hand moving to his cheek to wipe away the tears that had fallen.

"You're alright. It's okay, Pete."

"Tony, I didn't do it. I swear. I'd never...I didn't do it."

"Peter, we understand that you've been going through a difficult time." Helen started, voice soft and kind. "You aren't in trouble. We just want to talk…"

Peter shook his head, starting to feel frantic again. "I didn't...Doctor Cho, I didn't do it." He insisted, tugging at his restraints and feeling his eyes fill again. What if they didn't believe him?

She started to speak but Tony leaned in, touching his shoulder. "Buddy, we found you with your wrists cut open. You were bleeding out."

Peter shook his head, desperate. "I didn't do it. This man...he came into the apartment! He works here! There was something in my drink...please...Tony please, you have to believe me."

Tony paused, holding up a hand when Helen went to speak again. "Slow down. Take a breath, Pete." He urged, reaching out and gripping his hand. Peter did, fighting the urge to try and get his hands free again. But he was strapped down while they stood over him and he couldn't stop himself from pulling at the restraints again. Tony glanced down at his hands, looked him in the eye, then seemed to come to a conclusion. "Alright. Just a sec." He murmured, ignoring Helen's protest. "It's fine. We're right here with him."

Peter sighed in relief when his hand was free, then the other, and he used his hands to push himself up. Tony sat beside him on the bed, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Okay. I'm listening. Tell me what happened."

He explained again how his drink had tasted strange, and how the man had come in...how he hadn't been able to move. How Friday hadn't responded. "You know...The guy from the lobby. He works for you. I saw him talking to Happy yesterday."

Tony nodded, glancing at Helen. "Can you tell what this guy gave him without a blood test?"

"I can try but it's probably all out of his system by now."

"Friday? Got any footage?"

"Unfortunately, I was offline for three hours this afternoon."

Tony frowned at that, shaking his head, and Peter felt his heart sink. There was no evidence. Tony wasn't going to believe him without evidence. Then it hit him.

"My soda! Is it still in my room? There would still be whatever drug he gave me in there!"

"There wasn't any soda in your room," Tony told him gently, and Peter dropped his eyes. The man must have taken it. "Helen, think we can have the room?"

"Of course." The doctor told him, giving Peter one last long look before she was gone, shutting the door behind him.

"Tony…"

"Look at me," Tony instructed softly, reaching out and tapping his cheek. "I need you to be straight with me. Okay? Because finding you bleeding out on your bathroom floor after what looked like a suicide attempt isn't something I'm going to be able to survive twice." Peter swallowed, dropping his eyes, but Tony moved his hand to his chin, prompting Peter to look at him again. "You have to tell me the truth, Pete. It's just you and me. You won't be in trouble if you did it. I promise. I can help you. Depression, it's something I am intimately acquainted with. It's nothing to be ashamed of. We won't have to tell anyone. But you have to tell me the truth."

Peter looked him straight in the eye, all too aware of how his own eyes were heating up, tears spilling out the corners as his hands shook. He had to make the man believe him. "I didn't do it. Someone drugged me...he dragged me into the bathroom and...he had a razor and...I thought I was going to die. I kept asking Friday to call you but she wasn't online…" Peter's voice broke off and he dropped his eyes. It sounded crazy...he knew it sounded crazy. But it was the truth.

Tony gripped his shoulder. "Alright. Friday, get me a copy of the company directory. We need to find this guy. Figure out how he could have gotten into our apartment. Have Helen come back to run a blood test. We need to know what he used and if it'll have any long-lasting effects. Peter, I'm benching you. There's someone out there that knows who you are and how to take you out, so...kid?" He asked, freezing in place when Peter wiped his eyes, trying to stop crying. "Hey, what's the matter?" Tony asked, moving a little closer.

"I was afraid you wouldn't believe me," Peter admitted.

"Hey." The man put both hands on his shoulders, then pulled him close so that he could hug him. "My kid's not a liar, Pete. I trust you. If you say you didn't do it, you didn't do it." Tony gave him a moment, just holding him close and rubbing his back, then helped him lay back against the pillows. "You need to get some more rest. Helen's going to take some blood, and we're going to figure out who the hell this guy is. And then, Iron Man's going to have a chat with him. Sound good?"

Peter wiped his eyes and nodded, resting his head on the pillow as Helen came back into the room. "Yeah. Sounds good."


	20. Humiliation

Peter liked to think that he was pretty close to the Avengers, which was probably the coolest thing that had ever happened to him. Like...ever. Ever time he went over to the tower for training, or even just to hang out with Mr. Stark and work together in his lab, he would see some of the other Avengers around. They all knew he was Spiderman, and it was great to have a place where he could just be...him. Fully himself. If that meant hanging upside down while he read whatever novel he was working his way through or eating half his body weight in potato chips, then that was fine.

It also meant that he got a lot of physical contact with other people, which wasn't exactly a byproduct of the bite...more something he didn't get a lot of. Sure, he had May. May had always been there, ready to give him a hug or to touch his shoulder. And sometimes he could get a hug from Ned, or a fists bump...but...it wasn't quite enough. Not that he could come out and ask.

It felt weird. But sometimes he just...he just wanted someone to be close to him. Some kind of physical contact. And when he went days or weeks without it, like he had before meeting the Avengers, he would start to feel...off. Like...like he wasn't really there. Like he was alone and...and if he thought about it his chest would start to get tight and he would wrap his arms around himself and lay in his bed and wait for May to get home.

At school, he would sit closer than necessary to Ned at lunch sometimes, just so their shoulders would touch. He thought that MJ might have caught on, because sometimes she would do the same thing, scooting closer to him, their knees pressing together. But he never dared do it with Mr. Stark...not after that time in the car. Sure, the man had squeezed his shoulder or ruffled his hair since, but he never sought him out. Never dared.

Rhodey had been the first. He'd shaken his hand, telling him it was great to meet him...and later, after training, he'd wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulders, squeezing him to his side, telling him how good he'd done. That he was impressive. And Peter had let himself lean against the man for just a moment while Mr. Stark had run a towel through his own hair. It had been more comforting than it should have been, but Rhodey hadn't seemed to mind. He'd just hugged him for a long moment before patting his shoulder.

Surprisingly, the next Avenger to hug him had been Natasha. She had found him on the balcony one night, his head in his hands as he'd fought through what he had come to think of as his 'sad times.' It was a stupid name, but it wasn't like he ever said it out loud. She had joined him, pausing for a moment before putting a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." He'd shrugged a little. She hadn't moved away...had only moved a little closer, looked into his eyes, and then she'd wrapped her arms around him, reminding him so much of May that it had hurt. "I'm fine." He'd whispered, and she'd patted his back.

"I know." She'd told him lightly, not pulling away. He'd given up on trying to look cool, just resting his head on her shoulder and closing his eyes.

Sam had been next. It hadn't been a real hug. Peter had gotten hurt during training, landing weird and twisting his ankle. He'd assured Sam and Steve that he was fine, or that he would be in a few hours, but Sam had insisted on getting an arm around him, helping him into the elevator and then up to the living room where they'd found Mr. Stark drinking a smoothie and working on his tablet.

"How did training go?" He'd asked before looking up, eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Pete?"

"Kid twisted his ankle." Sam had told him, easing Peter down on the sofa, then ruffling his hair before going to the kitchen to get him some ice. Peter had made sure not to accidentally touch Mr. Stark, well aware of how the man liked his space. He'd scooted back when Mr. Stark had started to put his hand down, now wanting to be in his way, and the man had given him a strange look before going back to his tablet.

"You okay?" He'd asked, not looking at Peter.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just landed weird."

Steve had hugged him next. It had been after a huge battle with some kind or weird robot monster things, and it had been...intense. Back at the tower, he'd gone to his room, saying he was going to take a shower, but he'd just slid down the wall beside the door, taking deep breaths and closing his eyes, trying to center himself. Trying to calm down. But it hadn't been working, and Steve had been the one to knock on his door...to come into his room and then shut the door behind him, sitting down beside him, and wrapping an arm hesitantly around his shoulders.

Peter had turned his head into the man's shoulder, unable to stop shaking. "Are you hurt?" Steve had asked, voice soft.

He'd shaken his head. "No...I'm sorry…"

"You're alright, son. I get it. It's hard at first."

Peter wasn't sure how much Mr. Stark knew about all of this, but he couldn't imagine that he would care. Peter had tried to hug the man exactly once and he'd made it abundantly clear that they weren't there yet. Which was fine. Some people weren't hugg-y people, and Mr. Stark obviously wasn't. It was fine. Peter didn't need that from him...as much as he loved the man and looked up to him and had started to see him as a mentor and...well...almost an uncle figure, he was fine with the fact that the man almost never initiated any kind of physical contact.

Peter didn't need it. He was fine.

So when he got a D on his English midterm, he didn't go to Mr. Stark. Or...well...anyone. He balled up the paper, throwing it in the kitchen trash and practically storming to his room at the tower. It was lab day, and he needed to meet Mr. Stark...but he needed a second. Just...just a second. To himself.

He was sitting on his bed, head in his hands, jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth hurt, when there was a knock at the door. "Peter?" Mr. Stark asked. "Kid? You alright?"

"Yeah," He rasped a little, wiping his eyes and wishing he could jump out the window. But Mr. Stark had a flying suit and would track him down.

"Well, Karen says otherwise." He opened the door, and Peter dropped his head, not wanting his hero to see him cry. "Plus I found this on top of the trash." Peter didn't look, but he was sure he was holding up his midterm. Humiliated, Peter felt his eyes fill again. He was supposed to be smart! What was wrong with him? Would Mr. Stark take away the internship? Tell May?

Mr. Stark sat on the bed beside him, their shoulders almost touching, and Peter flinched away a little. "So...what happened, kiddo?"

"Just...didn't have time to study." Peter murmured, shrugging.

Mr. Stark lifted a hand, hesitating for a second before placing it on Peter's shoulder. He had to stop himself from flinching, and Mr. Stark sighed, seeming to contemplate his words before speaking. "Kid...what's up with that? You're always hugging everyone out around here…" And then the man's voice went soft and almost...vulnerable. "You...you could...I mean...I thought we were pretty close so...why don't you ever come to me?"

Peter felt his ears heat up and he stared at the floor. "I tried once and…" He shrugged, and beside him, Tony sighed. Then he scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, but Peter remained stiff, refusing to look up. Mr. Stark squeezed his shoulder, then spoke softly.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Pete. I'm not very good at this. My dad...he didn't really do affection. Hell, the man never even told me he loved me. And I...I don't really know what I'm doing." Peter didn't look up. Didn't dare. But he did relax a little. "But I want to break the cycle, Pete. Really, I do. And I...I love you, kiddo. I want you to feel like you can come to me...with whatever. Like...if you get hurt or sick or just...need someone to talk to. That's what I'm here for, kid."

Then he wrapped his other arm around him and Peter finally let himself believe it, resting his head on Mr. Stark's shoulder. Closing his eyes, he released a shuddering breath. "So...we're there now?" He asked, desperate to change the subject.

Mr. Stark chuckled. "Yeah, buddy. We're there."


	21. Abandoned

If Tony had to guess, he would say that the boy was about ten, if that. But he looked younger...his cheekbones stuck out, eyes huge in his starving face as he watched Iron Man step into the room. He was dressed in a hospital gown, back pressed flat against the wall, tears filling his huge brown eyes.

As soon as Tony spotted him, he froze. The Hydra cell was abandoned, as far as he could tell, though Cap and Nat were investigating the upper floors. Tony had headed straight for the labs where he'd found the locked room, something he couldn't resist.

It turned out to be a mostly empty concrete bunker, with a bench for a bed and a slot for food...although Tony didn't see evidence of any food. Behind a screen was a toilet and a rusty sink, and the boy pressed himself to the wall, watching Tony's every move. He flipped the mask up, hands up, then lowered them once he remembered the repulsors. "Hey. Hi…". He murmured, wondering if he should open the suit. But he had just found this kid in a Hydra building...so he figured he should keep it on. "What are you doing here?" He asked. The boy just stared at him, eyes huge, lips in a tight line.

When Tony took a step forward, his eyes darted off to the side like he was looking for an escape. "Woah...it's okay, buddy. I'm not going to hurt you. You're okay. What's your name?"

The boy was silent, and Tony had to wonder if he could understand him...or if he could even talk. Tony didn't know any Russian so he couldn't try that...instead, he took another step forward...and then the boy was scurrying backward, climbing up the wall until he had pressed himself in the ceiling corner.

"Oh….". Tony tried to keep his jaw from dropping. "Oh...okay. Okay...so...that's cool. I didn't know anyone could do that. Um...think you could come down?" He held out his arms, reaching for the boy who whimpered, closing his eyes and turning his head away. "Hey...I'm not going to hurt you, kid. Don't you want to get out of here?"

The child opened his eyes, inching forward just a little, eyes on Tony.

"Yeah? You want to leave?"

Just then, Tony's comm buzzed to life. "Tony? I'm in the records room. There are files about some kind of project…"

"Yeah, grab all of 'em, Nat. I've kind of in the middle of something here."

"What?" She asked.

"There's a kid here. They had him locked up...and he can climb up the walls so...there's that."

"Okay...we need to contact Shield. They can figure out what to do with him."

Tony paused, noticing how the boy's face seemed to pale. Could he hear the comms? "What to do with him? He's a kid, not a weapon."

"He's been locked up in a top-secret Hydra base, Tony. He might actually be a weapon."

"I'm not turning a little boy over to Shield, Natasha." He told her softly, then switched off the comm, staring up at the boy whose eyes hadn't left him. "It's okay….you're okay, kiddo. I'm not going to hurt you...I won't let anyone hurt you. Just...can you climb down? I can get you out of here." No movement. Tony sighed. "Yeah, okay...I guess I look like a scary robot, huh? Here."

Praying that he wasn't making a stupid mistake, Tony opened the suit, climbing out and holding up bare hands. "See. Just a regular guy. Not a scary robot. Promise."

The boy hesitated, then nodded, slowly inching his way down the wall. Tony moved back, watching as the kid placed his feet on the ground, back still pressed to the wall. Tony held out a hand, crouching down a little. "Hi. I'm Tony." For a moment, he didn't think the kid was going to move...didn't think he would leave the perceived safety of the wall. But then he took a tiny step forward, reaching out a hand and placing it in Tony's larger one. "What's your name, kiddo?"

The boy gave a shrug of his skinny shoulders, eyes dropping.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

The boy hesitated, then nodded, not seeming to quite believe that Tony could be telling the truth...but obviously wanting to believe him.

"Can you talk?" Tony wondered.

"'M not s'posed to." The kid whispered in a raspy voice, eyes darting over to the corner of the ceiling where Tony thought a camera might be.

"I'm not with them, kiddo. I'm not one of the bad guys...you're allowed to talk to me." Tony told him with a smile. "How long have you been here?" The kid shrugged again. "Are you hungry?"

The boy nodded, sheepish, and Tony stepped back into his suit, reaching out an arm and gesturing for the kid to come with him. Hesitating only for a moment, the boy took a step forward, then another...and then his knees buckled, a whimper escaping his mouth as he crumbled. "Woah!" Tony cried, gripping his shoulders and catching him before he hit the ground. The boy jerked away, tears filling his eyes as he brought an arm up to protect his face. "Woah, woah, buddy. You're okay. What's the matter? Are you hurt?"

"Tony? We're on our way out. Where are you? Do you have the kid?" Nat asked.

"Yeah, I've got him. I think he's hurt...or sick...I'm going to bring him to the jet."

There was no response and he turned back to the boy he was holding up. The kid was stick thin, collar bones jutting out from the thin gown he was wearing. "Kiddo? I'm going to get you out of here, okay? You still with me?"

"Iron Man?" The kid asked, something strange passing over his face.

"Yeah, buddy. I'm Iron Man." Tony told him softly, scooping him up in his arms, heart sinking at how light he was. "Did you live somewhere else before you came here?"

The boy hesitated, then nodded. "With my aunt and uncle...but then they came and…" He cut himself off, head dropping against Tony's shoulder, sniffing softly.

"Could you climb on the walls before they brought you here?" The kid shook his head. "Did they hurt you?" This time, he nodded, sniffing again, turning his face and hiding it in the Iron Man suit. "It's alright, kiddo. No one's going to hurt you again."

"You promise?"

Tony hesitated but nodded. "Yeah, buddy. I promise."

When they stepped out into the light, the boy kept his face hidden in Tony's shoulder, and Steve and Nat paused when they caught sight of him. "I've got to get him to the medbay. I don't know if he's sick or what...but he collapsed in his cell after climbing on a wall, so something's wrong with him."

"Why would they just abandon him here?" Natasha wondered as Tony carried the boy into the jet. Immediately, she was at his side while Steve moved to the front of the jet to get them out of there.

"I don't know." Tony sat the boy down on one of the chairs that ran along the edge of the jet, stepping out of his suit and putting it on sentry mode, then ruffling the kid's hair. Bruce came out from the front of the jet, looking between the boy and Tony, eyes wide. "Bruce? Think you can look him over?"

"Yeah, I'll take a look." The man murmured, moving over to the boy's side as Tony turned back to Natasha.

"What does the file on him say?" He asked, lowering his voice.

"His name is Peter Parker. They took him from his aunt and uncle...his uncle and his father both worked for Shield…"

"Are they…"

Natasha shook her head. "All deceased. They killed his aunt, May Parker, and uncle, Ben Parker, when they took him. His parents were killed in a plane crash when he was four."

"Any other relatives?"

"None that are listed."

Tony glanced back at the boy who was staring wide-eyed at him while Bruce pricked him in the finger. The kid looked tiny next to Bruce, and his eyes were drooping despite the fact that he was being stabbed in the finger. Most kids would have been freaking out, but the little boy just looked tired. "Do we have any food on board?" The doctor asked, putting the blood sugar meter into a bag on the floor.

"Yeah," Natasha said, putting the file down on a table as they took off. Tony moved back over to the boy's side, giving Bruce a quick nod, then, as if he'd been doing it his whole life, he put his arm around the boy. Peter.

"Peter?" He asked. The boy looked up at him, eyes huge, hands shaking in his lap. "How are you feeling?" The boy gave a quick shrug of his scrawny shoulders. "You hungry?" He nodded at that. "Alright, buddy. Natasha is going to get you something to eat, and then we're going to take you back to Avengers Tower."

"They killed Uncle Ben," Peter whispered then, lips trembling, a tear falling down his cheek. "And Aunt May."

"I know, buddy. I'm sorry. But you're going to be okay."

Peter sniffed, closing his eyes, and the rest of the tears finally fell. Tony squeezed his shoulders and held him close, rubbing a hand over his back, flinching when he felt the knobs of the boy's spine under his fingers. They hadn't been feeding him. Not enough. The kid was practically starving.

Natasha brought a soda and a bag of chips from a side room, sitting down on Peter's other side. The boy huddled against Tony, hiding his face in his side, and Tony surprised himself when he wrapped both arms around him, practically pulling the boy into his lap. If Nat found this strange, she didn't say anything about it. "Hi, Peter." Natasha murmured, holding out the soda. "You want something to drink?"

Peter hesitated, then took the soda with a 'thank you' so soft that Tony almost didn't hear it. He practically inhaled it, then took the bag of chips without any hesitation. Once he'd eaten those, and the second bag of chips that Natasha brought him, Peter rested his head against Tony once more, then it seemed like barely a moment had passed before the kid was asleep. Tony shifted a little, letting the boy rest on his lap, and Natasha grabbed a blanket, draping it over him.

She waited until the boy was sleeping soundly before speaking, her voice low. "What are you going to do with him?"

Tony shook his head, glancing down at the boy whose pointy shoulder was pressing into Tony's thigh. "He doesn't have anyone, Nat."

"So...you're going to keep him? He's not a puppy, Tony."

Tony gave her a look, hoping she got the message. She seemed to, pressing her lips together and nodding.

"Well, you're doing a good job so far," Natasha told him with a soft smile, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. "I'll talk to Fury...you know he's going to want to meet him."

"Unless he doesn't see the file…"

Natasha lifted an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that we don't show Fury his file?" Tony shrugged, and the woman's lips twitched. "Why don't you hang on to it for a while? Have Bruce take a look. They weren't feeding him enough...and we don't know if there are any side effects to whatever it was they did to him. It looks like they were trying to replicate the super-soldier serum...but they used arachnid DNA If you get a blood sample to Helen you should be able to ."

"And you won't tell Fury?"

The woman looked down at Peter who was curled up on the chair, his head on Tony's lap, Tony's hand resting protectively on his shoulder, and her eyes softened. "No. He doesn't need to know about everything we do." She tucked the blanket around the boy's shoulders, then glanced up at Tony. "What are you going to do?"

"Have Helen look him over. Take a blood sample."

"Not what I meant."

Tony sighed, rubbing Peter's side...the boy didn't even stir. "I don't know." He admitted. "But...the kid needs somebody. He can't go into the system...not when he can climb walls. For now, the little spider can stay with me."


	22. Ransom

Tony was in the middle of his quarterly meeting with the shareholders or whatever...he wasn't exactly paying attention, when Pepper's phone buzzed. He glanced at it where it sat face down on the table, then did his best to fight back a yawn. It was 9 am and for the life of him he had no idea why they had to have these ridiculous meetings about...well...nothing really. Just the fact that his company was still doing fine and he wasn't going to go broke anytime soon, which was a relief because he was going to have to be a billionaire forever if he was going to fund the Spiderkid's appetite.

He smiled a little at the thought of Peter. The kid was coming over to the lab after school, and he planned on taking him out for ice cream before dropping him off at home. Peter had been coming over almost every week for the last few weeks, and Tony had to admit, he liked having him around. It was nice, having the kid chatting in his ear for a few hours in the lab, and the boy was a genius, always coming up with some little tweak for his webshooters or twist on his web fluid. The kid was...he was great. And Tony found himself missing him when he wasn't around.

He'd considered buying May a couple of tickets to a cruise, or maybe some plane tickets...heaven knew the woman worked too hard, and he was sure she hadn't taken a real vacation in years. And along with the free vacation, he would off free babysitting for the kid. He already had a room set up for him at the tower and everything. He just hadn't exactly shown it to him yet.

Not that he was nervous or anything. Peter was a great kid, and Tony knew that he'd love anything Tony gave him. But he also knew that Peter still called him Mr. Stark and looked at him like he had hung the moon and sometimes it was endearing and sweet. Other times, he worried that he was going to let him down...that Peter would finally see what so many other people saw when they looked at him. In the meantime, though, he told himself to just enjoy it. To mentor the boy and be something like a...an adult male figure or whatever, and hope that things went okay from there.

He'd been impressed with Peter Parker, especially after Homecoming and the whole 'saved his plane and turned down a spot with the Avengers to continue to stay close to the ground' thing. So he'd offered to make the internship real, and slowly but surely, he felt like he and the kid were getting close...building an actual relationship, not based on hero-worship but a genuine enjoyment of each other's company.

Pepper's phone vibrated again and she picked it up, placing it on her lap without flipping it over. He lifted an eyebrow and she shrugged. Unlike him, she took these meetings really seriously. He reached for her phone under the table and she slapped his hand, struggling to keep a straight face. Tony had to fight back a snort, and when he reached over again, she stomped on his foot with her heel and he had to struggle to keep his own straight face. No one was looking at them, thankfully, and the third time, he managed to snatch her phone. A giggle escaped her mouth, but she turned it into a cough when one of the shareholders glanced her way.

"Sorry." She mouthed, coughing again for good measure. Tony didn't bother hiding his smile as he winked at her, then held the phone up under the table so that they could both see the screen, and Pepper gave in, pressing her knee against his as she shifted closer.

All amusement dropped as his stomach tied itself in a knot.

Two texts from May Parker.

"Pepper, I need to talk to Tony!"

"Someone took Peter! They came to the apartment!"

Tony met Pepper's eyes for about ten seconds before dropping it in her hand and jumping to his feet, knocking his chair over backward, then raced out of the room, grabbing his own phone.

May Parker didn't have his phone number.

"Friday, call May Parker now!"

As he sprinted down the hallway, the suit formed around him, the call rerouting automatically to his helmet as a window slid open just in time for him to fly through it. "Hello?" May asked, her voice shaky and weak.

"May? I'm on my way. Are you alright?"

"They took Peter! I didn't...I didn't know if I should call the police or…"

"I'm on my way...give me, like, three minutes. I'm almost there. You're going to be fine. I'm going to figure out what's going on."

"Tony...they broke into the apartment...they…"

"Are you okay?"

"They took Peter. He...tried to fight them but they...they…"

"It's okay. He's going to be fine. I'm going to get him back."

Tony didn't know if he believed anything that he was saying...twice he'd had to swallow to keep from throwing up. Someone had taken Peter. Someone had gone to his apartment and Peter had fought back but...but...they'd taken him anyway.

Peter was stronger than anyone Tony knew. How had they taken him?

He landed on their fire escape and climbed through Peter's window, his suit standing by on sentry mode, keeping an eye on the street below. As soon as he pushed the door open, he froze. Their living room was a mess, with the couch overturned and their coffee table in pieces. The kitchen was equally bad, with a couple of dishes shattered on the floor, and...blood. There was blood.

He spotted May only a few seconds later. On the floor. Looking shell-shocked and...and her face had a long cut running from her temple to her jaw, her eye swollen almost shut, and blood running from her nose.

Peter would have never let anyone touch his aunt, secret identity be damned.

"May!" He called, falling to his knees at her side. She was sitting against the wall, tears dripping down her cheeks, blood covering her face. "May? Are you alright?"

"They took him…"

"Hey, don't worry about that. I'm going to get him back. He'll be fine. Here." He got an arm around her, standing and pulling her to her feet. She stumbled, and he spotted her glasses shattered on the floor beside her. Leading her over to the bedroom, he opened the door and helped her sit on the bed. Hurrying back to the kitchen, he ignored the broken glass that crunches under his feet and grabbed some paper towels, the ran into the bathroom to find a first aid kit.

Thankfully it was under the sink.

When he returned, May was sobbing, and all he wanted to do was find Peter. But the kid would never forgive him if he didn't take care of May first. So he made a list, something he was really good at.

_1\. Make sure May was okay._

_2\. As her what exactly had happened_

_3\. Get his kid back._

_4\. Kill whoever had taken him._

"They had...a needle or...or something and they…"

"Okay." Tony murmured, sitting beside her on the bed and holding a piece of gauze to the side of her face. She was going to need stitches.

"It was three hours ago...or...what time is it?"

Tony frowned at that, checking his watch.

"Almost a quarter 'til 10."

"He was fighting them but...but they...they shot him with something and...and it was like the movies and he...he just dropped! And then they hit me and...when I woke up they were gone."

"I'm calling Happy. He's going to get you to the tower and Helen is going to stitch you up."

"No! He...he's gone! I have to…"

"I'm going to get him back. I need you to trust me. But right now, you have to be taken care of too. You're hurt, and Pete would kill me if I didn't make sure you were safe."

May was quiet for a moment, but she finally nodded, more tears falling. He grabbed his phone, shifting on the bed when she dropped against him, her face pressed to his chest...probably getting blood on his suit if he thought about it. He didn't care. Couldn't have cared less.

He called Happy first, then Helen, then Rhodey who agreed to come. Then, hesitating for only a second, he called Steve who answered the ancient flip phone on the first ring. Tony had moved to the living room after having May lay down for a minute to wait for his driver.

"Tony?"

"Someone took Spiderman. They broke into his apartment and beat the shit out of his aunt, and I need to find him."

"Do you have any leads?" Steve asked immediately, and Tony could have forgiven him everything right then and there for not asking him a thousand unrelated questions.

"None, but I'm hoping there's some kind of ransom call. He has a tracker on his suit but it's still here. Can you keep an ear to the ground? He's fifteen years old. I'll send you a picture."

There was a moment's hesitation, and Tony worried that the man was about to start demanding answers about the kid's age, but thankfully, he just agreed to keep an eye out and get the rest of the rogue Avengers on the case.

Happy arrived in less than ten minutes, and he and Tony got May down to the car, Happy throwing Tony worried looks the whole time that Tony couldn't respond to. Not in front of May. She was already freaking out and he didn't want to admit to Happy that he had no leads...no way of knowing who had taken his kid or where he could be. That he'd gotten the rogue Avengers to start looking and that Rhodey was on his way from DC, but that he had no way of tracking Peter. Nor did he have any cameras set up in their home.

Which, of course, May never would have been cool with. Neither would Peter. But Tony was starting to wish he'd violated that particular bit of privacy in exchange for a clue of who had Peter.

He forced himself to think as he mechanically moved around the apartment, grabbing a broom to sweep some of the glass. He was buying them a new apartment, that much had already been decided. Something in a nice neighborhood close to Peter's school, with a gate and a key code and cameras. Something in a building that Tony would buy himself, and gift to them as a Halloween present or Thanksgiving present...it didn't matter. Their neighbors would be very well vetted. Or maybe he could find them a house. Something with a yard and a secure fence and a security system and a couple of the Iron Legion keeping watch at all times.

Tony shook his head, trying to get his thoughts back on something resembling helpful. They had broken in when Peter had been there and had been prepared for his enhancements. They knew who he was, but more importantly, they knew about his secret identity. And...and that was it. That's all he could possibly know without more information.

Just barely stopping himself from running a fist through the wall, Tony placed his hand against it instead, taking deep breaths. He had righted the sofa and swept up most of the glass, but he would hire a professional company to clean up the rest. In the meantime, he accessed Friday and ordered her to start looking for Peter in any way she could. Traffic camera footage, surveillance cameras, whatever. If she had to scour the entire city, she would, and he would wait.

No, screw that. He wouldn't wait. He would search too.

Two and a half hours in the Iron Man suit, however, proved to be fruitless. He didn't know what he was looking for, but that didn't stop him from looking, jetting around the city, an ear open for Friday. In the end, though, it was Pepper who called him. "Tony?" She asked, and he landed on a rooftop a few miles from Peter's apartment. For all he knew, they'd crossed state lines...had taken Peter somewhere out of the city.

Or killed him and dumped him in the river.

That thought made his stomach churn and he took a deep breath before answering. "Yeah?"

"The company received a call that was flagged and sent to me...they're saying that they have Peter."

"I'll be right there! Have them stay on the line!"

He was back at the tower in minutes, barely making it through the open window that swung open a little too slowly for his taste, and practically throwing himself out of the suit. Pepper waited for him in the living room, still dressed in her suit and heels, phone in her hand.

"He's here." She told the person on the phone, holding it out to Tony who all but snatched it.

"Tony Stark." He greeted, voice as causal as that time he'd punched a reporter in the face. He would be calm. He had to be calm. For Peter. Because he was going to get that kid back...and then he would freak out. But not before he got Peter back.

"Stark." The voice was lowered, obviously altered, and Pepper watched him, probably ready to call for someone...to track the call or something. But he couldn't risk it. Not yet. "I think we found something that belongs to you."

"Yeah, I think you did. And you've got to know that I famously hate it when people touch my things."

"Then you shouldn't leave them laying around."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Enough victim shaming. You took my intern. I want him back, unhurt. So what do you want?"

"It's too late for that...the little shit doesn't know how to cooperate. But he's quieted down. And if you want him, you're going to have to pay."

"Fine. Whatever you want. But I want proof that he's alive first."

"What, a picture?"

"No. I want to talk to him. See for myself that he's still alive."

The voice was silent for a moment, but then there was a soft tone from his phone, and he looked down to see that the person he had been talking to was requesting a video-chat. He accepted immediately and found himself staring at a black ski mask and a pair of blue eyes. The guy was white. Middle-aged. But that was all Tony could tell.

"Fine." He said simply, and Tony watched his face as a door slammed, and then the phone was being turned around and Tony felt his throat close up.

Peter was tied up with regular rope, his ankles tied to the chair legs and his hands behind his back. His eyes drooped, chin bobbing as he struggled to keep his head up. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth, and settled under his nose...his eyes wouldn't focus on the phone held up to him. "Peter!" Tony called, but the boy didn't respond, just let his eyes close for a moment before jerking them back open. "What the hell did you do to him?"

"We needed him to be compliant, and this was the quickest way to accomplish that. Now, as you can see, he's alive. And he'll stay that was as long as…"

Perfect. A ransom. "What do you want?" Tony asked, cutting him off and not caring.

"Twenty million."

"Done." He said simply, grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling it down to hand to Pepper. The man on the other end was silent and Tony figured he was surprised, but he'd give anything to get Peter back before they did something worse to him. "I'll transfer the money wherever. Just don't hurt the kid."

The sound that filled the phone then made Tony jump, holding the phone away from his face for a second before putting it back to his ear. "Hello?" He demanded.

Silence. They'd hung up on him. Or...or something had exploded.

Heart in his throat, he turned to the ceiling. "Friday!"

"I'm on it boss. It looks like there was a small scale explosion in a building in New Jersey."

"Send me the coordinates!"

"Tony?" Pepper asked, but he was already in the suit and out the window again.

The building wasn't hard to spot. Police cars surrounded the burning structure, and Tony thought that his heart might actually stop. "Friday?" He asked, voice raspy, but before he could finish that sentence, she broke in.

"You are receiving a call from Steve Rogers."

"Put him through!" He demanded from the air.

"Tony! We got him!"

If the suit hadn't been holding him up, he might have dropped. As it was, he closed his eyes, forcing the tears back. It only sort of worked. "What the hell? Why is the building on fire?"

"Sam got a little grenade-happy ...but the police are taking the guys that had him in."

"Where's Pete?" He croaked. He didn't honestly care about the scumbags that had stolen his kid...he just wanted to see him.

"We brought him back to our...base."

"Is he okay? Send me the coordinates."

"Sam's looking him over...they've got him on some kind of drugs, and he has a broken arm, but Sam thinks he'll be okay."

Tony didn't believe him until he was landing outside of another abandoned building, then taking the stairs down to the basement where he found Steve waiting for him. He was led to Peter, then, and he practically fell to his knees at the boy's side where he lay on a sofa, dead to the world.

But not dead.

"You need to get him to a doctor. I reset his arm since he was already out of it, but I don't know what they were giving him." Sam told him softly.

Tony reached out, barely hearing him. Peter's right arm was resting in a makeshift sling made out of an old sweatshirt on his chest, and someone had cleaned the blood off of his swollen face, but the kid didn't even flinch when Tony touched his head. "Kiddo? Can you hear me?"

No response.

Tony pulled out his phone, calling Happy with the address and promising that he wouldn't tell anyone where they were hiding. Neither would Happy. He also called Pepper, telling her that he'd found Peter, and asked her to let Helen know that they were bringing him in. And May.

While he waited, he half-listened to Steve give him the run-down of how he and Sam had tracked down the people who'd taken his kid. Peter was out of it, and Tony checked his pulse more than once, grimacing at the way the kid's heart raced. They would need to figure out what was in his system and make sure there were no long-term side-effects. For the moment, though, he was just glad the kid was alive.

Steve offered to carry Peter to the car, but Tony scooped the boy up in his arms, careful of the sling. Peter was silent as he carried him up the stairs and out the door, deadweight in his arms as he carefully climbed into the backseat of the car, Happy throwing them worried glances as he started to drive. It was only when they were halfway to the tower that the boy shifted, groaning softly and scrunching his forehead.

His head rested on Tony's lap, arm resting on his chest, and Tony touched his bloody hair. "Peter? Can you hear me?"

"Huh?" Peter started to move, then froze with a gasp when he must have jostled his arm.

"Easy, buddy. Hold still. Your arm's hurt...we're getting you back to the tower." He wasn't sure if Peter was taking any of it in, because he just blinked, staring blearily up at him and winching when he tried to sit up again. "Pete? Hey, can you hear me?"

"Mr. Stark?" The kid slurred, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw. "Hurts…"

"I know, buddy. I know." He murmured, running a hand through his hair. "You're okay. Just stay still. We're getting you back to the medbay and we'll get you fixed up. You're okay." He rubbed a hand over his shoulder, squeezing the shoulder of his good arm, not wanting to hurt him.

"My head...hurts…" Peter tried to say again, eyes drooping, and Tony ruffled his hair.

"I know, Pete. We're getting you some help. Just hang on. Stay with me."

"Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah, I"m here, Pete."

"My...Mr. Stark..I can't…". The kid tried to shake his head but just groaned when he couldn't seem to accomplish it.

"They've got you on some weird drugs, kiddo. You're going to be okay. Just hold on."

Peter started to mumble something else, but in the end, he just nodded, head dropping back down onto Tony's leg. The man closed his eyes, taking deep breaths as he ran his fingers through the boy's hair. He was fine, Tony told himself. The kid was fine. Peter was fine. He'd get him to the medbay and Helen would fix him up and Peter was going to be fine. Now...now Tony could freak out. He dropped his head against the back of the seat, bringing up the partition so that he could have his breakdown in relative privacy.

They'd taken Peter. They'd found the kid in his own apartment and they'd beaten the shit out of him and Tony didn't know what he would have done if he hadn't found him...if Steve hadn't managed to find him. How the hell would he have lived without this kid?

"Mr. Stark?" Tony looked down at Peter whose eyes had opened again. He reached out and touched Mr. Stark's arm with his good arm. He looked down at the boy with his head in his lap, eyes barely focusing, and tried to take a deep breath, failing miserably.

"Yeah, Pete?" He all but wheezed.

"You're okay. Breathe...breathe with me…". His sentence trailed off and Tony let out a choked laugh as he drifted back into sleep, his fingers ghosting over the boy's bruised cheek.

"Thanks, buddy." He whispered to the sleeping kid, smoothing his hair back as they pulled into the tower's garage.

_ **Thank you for reading!** _


	23. Numb

It hadn't felt like the hardest hit he'd ever taken. Not by a long shot. Peter had faced down plenty of bad guys since the Vulture, mostly by himself, but sometimes Mr. Stark would step in and give him a hand. Once or twice War Machine had joined him. He felt like he was getting pretty good at this whole 'taking down the bad guys' thing.

And then there was this douchebag.

He called himself the Green Goblin and it fit. Big, green, freaky looking, and not at all ready to talk things out. Peter had managed to stop him from wreaking havoc on the streets and had gotten the guy, monster, thing to follow him away from the more populated area of the city and closer tot he river...which had seemed like a great idea at first. But as it turned out, the Green Goblin was more than happy to focus all of his energy on Spiderman, who he seemed to hate with a very focused passion.

Finally, after plenty of hits and not managing to do too much damage himself, Peter gave in. "Hey, Karen? Call Mr. Stark. I think I'm going to need some…"

And that's when the Green Goblin hit him. The impact of the monster's hand against his side broke at least one rib on impact, and Peter gasped and reached out to shoot a web before landing on the ledge of a building, his back slamming into the concrete, his legs dangling over the side, his head cracking against the concrete...and then he was falling again. Falling and...and sinking.

Alarms were going off. Something loud in his ear...but all he knew was that he was cold and...and...then not cold anymore. He'd been holding his breath but now...it felt like he couldn't do that. It was fine, though...his whole body was numb.

This wasn't so bad. He knew that he should get up. He knew that the Green Goblin was still out there and he knew that he needed to stop him...but his chest hurt in a far off, unimportant way and his whole body was sinking and the world was going dark at the edges...

Hands pressed against Peter's chest. That was the next thing he was aware of. It hurt, and someone was screaming, and then water filled his throat and he gagged. He wanted to turn over but couldn't manage it...couldn't get his body to move. But hands grabbed his shoulders and rolled him over, and then he was throwing up water and bile and choking on it.

He was shaking. Shaking so hard his teeth rattled. And he had no idea who was doing this...no idea what was happening but he was so, so cold. "Pl...ple...please…." He tried but was immediately shushed.

"Karen? Talk to me!"

His name wasn't Karen...was it? He couldn't quite remember...but he thought he was a boy and Karen sounded like a girl's name...maybe...he wasn't sure. Peter thought that he should have had something on his face...a mask? Hadn't he been wearing a mask?

A voice said something about injuries, and then the word spinal, and someone else was cursing, and Peter was shaking so hard he thought he might fall apart...he closed his eyes, giving up on keeping track of the things happening around him. He was too cold...if he slept, though, he could be warm again.

"But I have to move him! He's freezing!"

"Tony?" Someone else asked.

"...broke...spine...can't…"

The cold was fading again, leaving numbness that was blissfully less painful, and he released a breath, finding that he didn't need to take another one for a long time. Someone above him shouted and touched his face with a hand so warm it felt impossible.

"I have to…"

"Call…"

"Stabilize his neck or he…"

Peter tried to block it all out. Tried to hide in the numb darkness that surrounded him. He didn't want to be cold again. Didn't want the pain that came with it. But that voice...the one that was right next to him, began to speak to him. Just him.

"I'm here, Pete. I'm right here, buddy. You're going to be okay. We're getting you some help. Don't worry."

It wasn't so much the words. His brain wasn't doing a very good job of making sense of those. It was the tone. Soft and comforting and...crying. The person was crying. And for whatever reason, that fact made his whole being stop. Because some part of him knew that voice. Some part of him loved the person with that voice, and he couldn't bear to hear them cry.

He forced his eyes open. Whatever was going on, he needed to comfort that person.

The world was blurry, and movement was happening all around him. Movement he couldn't track. But someone was taking his clothes off...he couldn't really bring himself to care about that, not when something warm was placed on him. Warm. So, blissfully warm, and hands rubbed his feet, the friction pulling blood almost painfully back to his toes. That didn't matter, though.

What mattered was the man beside him. Black hair going just a little gray. Huge brown eyes that latched onto him and refused to release him. A tear on his cheek and two hands clasped around one of his own. "Peter, Peter, Peter…". The man whispered his name like a prayer.

Oh right. His name.

He couldn't talk...but he wasn't sure why. When he tried to move his mouth, something was in the way. Something hard and plastic that forced air into his lungs. He couldn't muster the effort to talk around it, but he stared at the man until he seemed to realize that Peter was aware of what was going on. "Peter? Hey...you're okay. You're going to be fine, buddy. It's okay. I'm right here."

The man's name escaped Peter, but his importance didn't. So he squeezed the man's hand in bursts, hoping he was getting it right. Hoping that it made sense. He did it over and over, the two words squeezed between his hand and the other man's.

It only took three times before the other man's eyes filled with tears and he gripped Peter's hand, squeezing hard. "I love you too, Pete." He all but whispered, closing his eyes. A tear dripped down his face and Peter's heart clenched.

He felt himself fading...felt his eyes dropping as his body wanted, but he had to make sure the man was alright. So he switched from 'love you' to 'you okay' and squeezed the man's hand, the Morse code coming through the first time judging from the weak smile on his face.

"Yeah...yeah, buddy. I'm okay."

Peter let himself sleep then. Let himself drift away. He was okay. The man had promised.

He woke once when he was moved, the tube in his throat jostling and choking him, and someone told someone else to be careful, their voice sharp. Then something cut into him and he screamed around the tube...screamed and tried to move but his body felt like dead weight and it hurt so much and then there was more screaming and more hands holding him down...then a rush of cool numbness.

When he woke again, Peter found himself blinking at the ceiling. He felt...wrong. Something was wrong. His body ached, and his stomach felt sick...his head was fuzzy and he couldn't exactly remember why he felt this way…but something was wrong. Hands twitching, he watched the ceiling swirl around him, and he groaned around something in his mouth...a tube...a tube was going down his throat. That knowledge made him try to sit up, but something stopped him...a hand holding him down.

"Peter? Can you hear me, kiddo?"

He tried to answer, then remembered the tube again, groaning and blinking up at the man who had moved into his line of sight. Groaning and bringing a hand to his mouth to try and yank the tube out, he frowned when Mr. Stark held his arm down, shaking his head. "You've got to leave that alone, Pete. It's helping you breathe."

Peter dropped his hand, staring up at the man who sat at his side. "You remember what happened?" Mr. Stark asked, squeezing his hand. He blinked up at him, then shook his head, dropping back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut. "Pete?"

But Peter was gone. Asleep once more, floating in numbness until his eyes opened again. He was staring at the same ceiling, stomach still sick, head still aching. But something was wrong. He vaguely remembered that. Something was wrong.

He swallowed hard, glad that he could. The tube was gone, and he was covered with a thick blanket...and he was alone. "Friday?" He asked, recognizing the medbay at the tower.

"Hello, Peter. I have alerted Boss that you are awake."

"What happened?"

"You were injured while fighting the Green Goblin. Boss brought you back here."

Peter started to ask what exactly was wrong with him, but Mr. Stark came into the room before he could. The man hurried in, eyes wide as he seemed to take in every inch of Peter, as if making sure he was really alive. Peter wanted to sit up, but as he started to push himself up, he froze.

He couldn't move his legs.

Icy terror flooded his whole body...as if he was falling and falling and didn't know when he would ever land...or what would happen when he did. Something in the background beeped and beeped and it got faster and faster but Peter couldn't breathe anymore because he couldn't move his legs!

A hand gripped his shoulder, squeezing and grounding him as he gasped for air. "Peter! Kiddo, you've gotta breathe, okay? Just...just...here." He stammered, placing one of Peter's hands on his chest and breathing somewhat slowly. Peter tried to copy him, unable to stop the tears that escaped. "You're going to be okay. It's okay, buddy. It's okay."

It took a long moment, but finally he nodded...finally he could breathe again. "I can't...Mr. Stark...I can't...why can't I feel…"

"I know. You had a spinal injury."

"But I...I can't…"

"Take a breath, Peter. You're okay. You're going to be okay." The man sat on his bed beside him and he realized that he was sobbing...truly sobbing, and Mr. Stark put an arm around him, pulling him close and rocking him a little. "Easy...easy buddy."

He managed to pull himself together, but kept his face hidden in Mr. Stark's arm. "I don't remember what happened." He told the man, and Mr Stark nodded, still rubbing his back.

"I found you in the river. According to Karen, you were fighting the Green Asshole and he knocked you out of the sky. You hit the ledge of a building, broke your back and some ribs, got a nasty concussion, then fell in the river. I...I barely got to you in time, Pete. You nearly drowned."

He was silent, taking that in as he struggled to stay calm.

"Helen said that you woke up during surgery...how are you feeling now?"

"I...I don't know." He admitted. He still felt dizzy but didn't know if it was because he was sick or if it was because of shock. "Where...is May…"

"She's asleep down the hall. It's about 2 in the morning."

Peter wanted to apologize for waking him but couldn't get the words out...he just nodded and stared at his legs under the covers, willing them to move. "Will...Mr. Stark…". His voice broke and he gripped the sheets in his free hand. He couldn't ask. Couldn't make the words come. But Mr. Stark seemed to get it.

"Helen said that she wasn't sure...with your mutation, it's almost impossible to tell at this stage. But we want to go to Wakanda." Peter cocked his head at that, frowning.

"Wakanda? Isn't that where King T'Challa is from?"

"Yeah. They have some pretty serious medical technology there. Helen said that if anyone could help you, it's them."

Peter nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head on Mr. Stark's shoulder. He didn't know what to say...what to ask. Didn't know if he even wanted answers.

"I'm going to get you something to eat. Think you could handle soup?" Peter shrugged and Mr. Stark grabbed his hand, bringing up a ghost of a memory. Squeezing, he smiled a little when Mr. Stark rested the side of his head against Peter's. "I love you too, kiddo. So much. That's not going to change. No matter what they tell us in Wakanda."


	24. Recovery

_ **This one is a sequel to the Whumptober: Penny Parker Edition prompt "Stay" from last year :) Warning for mention of sexual assault.** _

Recovery

"Please stay."

"Always," Tony whispered the word, holding the soaking wet girl in his arms on the sofa in the middle of the Compound's lobby. On the other side of the room, Rhodey stood at the door, jaw clenched so tight that Tony wondered if he'd broken any teeth yet. The colonel had his eyes firmly on the ground, arms crossed, his whole body the picture of tension.

He hadn't expected the girl in his arms to come to the Compound that evening. Hadn't expected to see her for a couple more days. Friday had informed him that Penny was approaching the compound and Vision had gone out to meet her...he'd seen the way she'd pulled away from him. How she'd kept her distance while they'd walked inside. And then she'd run into his arms, sobbing and shaking and begging him to stay.

Tony had known that she didn't like Jeremy. That she didn't want her aunt dating again so soon after her uncle. It had been obvious from the way she'd talked about him...or hadn't talked about him. But Tony hadn't felt like he'd had the right to insert his own opinion on that. It wasn't like it was his family...Penny wasn't his kid. May had the right to date whoever she wanted, and he certainly had no right to get involved.

Until they hurt Penny.

Because, as it turned out, Penny was his kid. Not by blood...but as soon as he'd seen her, absolutely soaked and shaking from the cold and sobbing, throwing herself into his arms as if desperate for a safe place, he had known it. This was his kid. He loved her. He loved her exactly like she was his own kid.

And he should have protected her.

It was irrational, he knew. He had a guilt complex the size of the continental US and was well aware that he had a habit of blaming himself for things he had no control over. But this was Penny. And she'd told him that she didn't really like Jeremy and she'd obviously been upset at the idea of May dating him...and he hadn't pushed. Hadn't said a word about it. Because he hadn't wanted over overstep.

And now...now he would make sure that asshole never saw the light of day again. At least, not from anywhere except behind bars. Of course, the legal system was a joke at times, and it would be difficult, but Tony didn't care if he had to frame him for tax fraud...Jeremy would be punished for this. One way or another. And if he couldn't ensure the man who had assaulted his kid spent the rest of his life in prison, well...he knew more than one assassin.

The girl in his arms shook, which was no wonder. Penny was soaked despite the towel he'd wrapped around her, and she had apparently walked to the compound from the nearest subway station in the middle of a downpour and he needed to warm her up. But she still clung to him, fingers probably leaving bruises on his back, not that he cared. He'd deal with the bruises. And the fact that his clothes were soaked and that he was getting cold too.

He just wanted to help her. Wanted to make sure she felt safe. But to do that, he would need to get her upstairs and into a shower and warmer clothes. Rhodey was watching him now, waiting. Waiting for a way to help. Tony rubbed Penny's back, closing his eyes when she let out another sob, face hidden in his neck. He could probably carry her but doubted she would want him to. She seemed fine with him hugging her, but any other kind of touch was going to be initiated by her. She trusted him and he wasn't about to jeopardize that.

She'd said no when he'd asked her a few minutes ago if she wanted to go upstairs...but her skin was so pale and she was shaking...just not as hard as before. He knew that she had a thermoregulation problem, and didn't want her to get sick on top of everything else.

Rhodey seemed to understand what he was thinking because he moved forward away from the door, footsteps slow and measured as his leg braces hissed. Penny would hear him coming. Would know it was him approaching. Kneeling down a little at her side, Rhodey spoke in a soft, kind voice. "Hey, kiddo. I was going to order some Thai food for dinner. You want to go upstairs and get dried off? Then we can all eat.l.

Penny hesitated, then nodded, eyes a little dull...a little glassy. Tony didn't know if it was the shock or the cold, but she was getting less responsive and he wanted to get her warmed up and fed. He knew she hadn't eaten since about 1:30 when they'd had pizza rolls reheated in the microwave...she hadn't had time to eat at home. Penny had woken up around noon, and the two had eaten together in the lab while working on her webshooters.

"Alright, Pen, let's head upstairs." Tony murmured, standing and pulling her with them. She let go of him, and Rhodey grabbed her backpack as the three made their way over to the elevator.

The girl hadn't quite stopped crying. But now they were silent tears that trailed down her face, and she barely seemed aware of them. Tony thought about wrapping an arm around her but decided to let her walk on her own. If she wanted him to touch her, he decided, she would come closer.

When they reached his floor, Pepper was in the kitchen, and she dropped her clipboard, eyes widening. Before she could ask, though, Tony gave a quick shake of his head, and she closed her mouth with a snap.

"Why don't you go jump in the shower, Pen? You've got plenty of clothes in your room. Dinner will probably be here by the time you're done." He suggested, and the girl nodded woodenly, moving in the direction of her room. Tony waiter until her door shut to turn to Rhodey and Pepper.

"Tony, what…". Pepper started, but he cut her off, voice barely above a whisper.

"Her aunt's boyfriend...raped her." The word tasted like bile and he wanted to scream and throw up and destroy something but first, he had to make sure the kid was settled.

Pepper's face lost all color, and for a moment, she just closed her eyes, lips in a tight line. But then she nodded. "Does she need to see a doctor? We can get her medicine…"

"She probably needs to see a doctor but I don't want to force her. She won't need any kind of pill. He didn't go that far." Tony didn't want to say what the man had done to that little girl, but he forced himself to give Pepper the barest details, and she gave a quick nod.

"I'll call Helen and have her on standby."

"I already ordered the food so it should be here in about twenty minutes," Rhodey told him, starting to put Penny's soaking wet backpack on the floor, but Pepper grabbed it before he could.

"I'll take this to her." She murmured, grabbing it and hurrying toward Penny's bedroom.

Tony waited until she was gone to speak. "I'm going to make a call."

"You're going to let the police handle this?"

"No," Tony told him shortly. "I'm going to call in a favor."

He didn't know if Shield could technically owe him a favor, as it officially didn't exist, but he was willing to try. Thankfully, he still had Maria Hill's personal phone number. And he was relatively sure that she would help him put a rapist away forever.

Penny was in the shower for a long time. Long enough for Tony to call Maria, for Rooney to set out the food, and for Pepper to suggest he call Penny's aunt. He knew that he was supposed to tell May where Penny was. Surely the woman had started to worry. But he couldn't stop remembering what Penny had said. May had left her with that man.

It wasn't May's fault. He couldn't blame her for this...but some part of him said that he would have never left Penny with someone she didn't like...with someone she so obviously felt uncomfortable around. He shook his head, running a hand over his face. That wasn't helpful. So he picked up his phone and sent her a quick text, letting her know that Penny was with him at the compound.

Penny was in the shower for long enough that he started to get concerned. "Fri...is there anything sharp in the bathroom?" He asked softly, moving into the living room away from the others. He didn't want to ask...didn't even want to think it, but Penny was distressed. Obviously distressed.

"There is a pack of razors under the sink and a needle in the first aid kid." She reminded him. Tony rubbed a hand over his mouth, then went back into the kitchen where Pepper and Rhodey were waiting, both looking equally grim.

"Pep? Can you check on her?" He asked softly.

Immediately, she nodded, hurrying to Penny's room, and Tony dropped into a chair, taking a deep breath. "Have you told her aunt?" Rhodey asked, sitting across from him and leaning in.

He shook his head. "No...didn't seem like a text message kind of topic."

"Is Shield going to take care of him?"

"Yeah. Maria is going to bring him in."

"For any particular reason?"

"She'll think of something."

Pepper returned after a moment, giving both men a weak smile. "She said she's not feeling well. She's going to lay down for a little while. I said we'd save her a plate."

Tony wanted to go to her...wanted to insist she eat, but then his phone was buzzing in his pocket and he sighed when he saw the name, answering it. "Tony? I need to talk to Penny." May told him without preamble, sounding pissed. He closed his eyes, wondering how the hell he was supposed to handle this.

"Hi, May. She just went to her room to lay down...she said she wasn't feeling well."

"Look, Tony, I get that you and Penny are close, and that's great, really. I'm glad she has you. But Penny can't just leave any time she wants. This is her home and she's been acting really strange lately."

"May…." He murmured, closing his eyes and sighing softly.

"I know that she's learning a lot of important things in the lab with you and since Ben...she just can't be gone the whole day without telling me where she's going. We...we got into a fight earlier and I stepped out for a minute and when I got back, she was gone. My boyfriend said that she snuck out the window."

"May." He spoke a little louder, knowing that this was going to hurt everyone but also that it had to be done. "Where is your boyfriend?"

"What?" She asked, sounding almost exasperated.

"Your boyfriend. Jeremy."

"Has Penny been talking about him? I mean, I know she's been uncomfortable with me dating but…"

"May...where is he?"

She paused at his tone. "He just left. What's going on?" He didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to explain to the woman who was basically Penny's mother that her boyfriend had raped her kid.

But he had to. He had to do it.

"May...Penny came here...she told me that Jeremy assaulted her."

"He...Tony what are...why…" The woman choked on her words, and Tony pinched his nose, a headache starting to form in his temples. "What do you mean? He...he wouldn't…"

"May, he raped her."

It took some convincing, but Tony managed to convince May not to go after Jeremy. He wanted to comfort her...wanted to assure her that this wasn't his fault, but he needed to take care of Penny. Needed to make sure she saw a doctor and ate something and...and he didn't know how else to help her. But he was going to have to try.

Penny had been laying down for about an hour when Tony made her a plate of food and went to the girl's room, knocking and waiting to see if she would tell him to come in. She did, and he stepped into the dark room, placing the plate on her dresser then moving over to her bed. She was curled up under her quilt, and he turned her bedside lamp on. She squinted a little at the light, looking up at him as he sat beside her on the bed. "Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?" He asked, reaching out and brushing her hair back.

The girl leaned into the contact so he kept his hand on her hair. Penny didn't answer, though, just shrugged.

"You've got to eat something, Pen." He put the back of his hand on her forehead to make sure she wasn't warm...thankfully, it didn't feel like she had a fever.

"I don't want to." She whispered.

"How about this. You eat some of the food I brought and we'll order cookies and watch whatever movie you want."

Penny's lips twitched into a smile. But pretty soon, it disappeared. "May called."

It wasn't a question, but he nodded.

"You told her?"

He nodded again. "Yeah, honey. I had to. But she's not mad. I'm going to take care of Jeremy and May said that it's fine if you sleep over." The girl lowered her eyes, and he put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing her arm.

Nothing he did that night was going to fix this, he knew that much. But he was going to be there. He was going to help her recover, no matter how long it took.

"She believes you." He told her softly. She met his eyes then, and the hope there broke his heart. "Jeremy isn't going to be a problem anymore."

"I...what if I don't want to go home tomorrow?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"You can stay here as long as you want, kiddo." Penny nodded, and he gestured to the plate. "So, food in exchange for cookies and movies? What do you say?"

Penny hesitated. "Can we watch Parks and Rec instead?"

"Of course we can, sweetheart."

_ **Thank you for reading! ** _


	25. Embrace

** _Happy Halloween and a HUGE thank you to everyone who has been reading and leaving reviews for this story. I appreciate you all so much! I hope you have enjoyed this month as much as I have and I hope you enjoy the final entry for Whumptober._ **

Tony was alive.

He opened his eyes, gasping for air as he looked around, Peter's last words ringing in his ears. "Don't go...please don't go! Sir, please! Don't leave me alone here!"

"I'm sorry, Pete."

He hadn't been able to stop it. Hadn't been able to stop himself from fading away, his whole body dissolving into dust while Peter had held onto him, fingers gripping his clothes, sobbing and begging him...begging him not to leave. And he'd left Peter. He'd left the kid in the middle of outer space alone with no way to get home!

Tony sat up, looking around the dead landscape, watching the wind kick up the dust, desperately looking for Peter. He'd gotten Peter into this. "Peter?" He called, coughing a little. "Pete!" Pushing himself up on shaky legs, he looked around the empty planet, at the dust and orange dirt and overcast sky. No sign of life...nothing...until someone appeared beside him. Strange. Doctor Strange! Then the others. Starlord. The big guy. The girl with the antenna. "What? Strange? Where's the kid? Where's Spiderman?"

Strange looked at him for a long moment, then at the others. He narrowed his eyes, then his lips turned up into a smile. "They did it."

"Who did what?" He demanded. "Where the hell is my kid, Strange?"

"Dude…" Starlord stumbled a little as he pulled himself to his feet. "What the fuck just happened?"

"Thanos snapped half of the universe out of existence. Someone reversed it."

"Strange! Where the hell is Peter?"

"It didn't happen the way I thought it was." Strange mused, and Starlord cocked his head.

"Right here, man."

"What?" Tony asked, shaking his head.

"You asked where Peter was. I'm Peter."

"I...I wasn't talking about you!" Tony snapped. "I'm talking about Spiderman! Peter Parker!"

"Oh…" Starklord nodded, looking a little abashed. "I, uh…" He looked around, as if the kid would appear out of nowhere like the rest of them had. "I don't see him."

"We should go back to Earth." Strange spoke up, holding out a hand.

"But how would Peter have gotten back to Earth? What if he's here?"

"The child would not have lived long on this planet, Stark." The words made Tony's stomach tie itself in a knot, and he turned away from the others and stumbled a few feet away.

"Peter!" He screamed, voice dying on the wind. "Peter!"

Please...no. The kid couldn't be dead. He couldn't be...not Peter. Not him. Not his kid. He put a shaking hand over his mouth, a tear escaping and slipping down his cheek as he stared at the dirt of Titan. Peter had been left here. He'd been alone...no way he would have found his way home. No way he would have been able to get back to Earth. He hadn't even had a working spaceship!

Peter had died alone.

"Stark!" Doctor Strange called from behind his weird glowing circle. Tony shook his head. Peter was gone. His kid...the kid that had looked up to him and who had come over his lab and worked with him and eaten pizza and watched movies...his kid was dead. He'd died alone on this dead planet and Tony hadn't been there! "Tony." Strange's voice softened, dropping his arms, and moving over to his side. "I don't know if the boy is okay. But I know that the universe was saved. I know that we need to go back to Earth."

Tony let himself be coaxed...let himself be led through a glowing portal and into what looked like a dystopian nightmare. It took him a moment to recognize the blackened, twisted remains of the Compound. There was another glowing circle opening a few hundred feet away and Steve and Bruce stepped out of it, the two of them looking at each other and then at Tony. Natasha came next, and then Clint...they all looked at one another, and then at the woman who approached.

She was blonde with short hair, and she shook her right hand as if it was hurting her, a glove held in her other hand. The same glove that Thanos had had.

"They did it." Strange told another man...Wong, Tony realized as Steve joined him, the others following.

"I thought it would be the other half," Wong answered, glancing at Tony and then the other Avengers.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Tony snapped, then gestured at the woman. "And who is she."

"Carol." The woman introduced herself, holding out a hand and smiling a little. "You must be 'Mr. Stark.'"

He froze at the nickname, glancing at Strange who was deep in conversation with Wong about sorcerer shit and thus no help. "Wh...what?" He asked, shaking his head.

"He never shuts up about you."

"Who?" Tony asked, knowing and not knowing. Hoping and not daring to hope. Surely Peter was gone...surely he couldn't let himself have hope like this. It already hurt so much...and he didn't even know if Pepper was alive. Who had been killed in this battle?

The sound was what first caught his attention. Twip. He knew that sound. Tony whirled and watched the familiar red suit approach. The Iron Spider...he'd named it, but hadn't told anyone else the name. But...there was something different about it. Some of the material had been ripped away, and underneath the red and black was white...it almost looked like webbing.

Peter.

Tony didn't realize he'd spoken aloud until the boy came to a halt right in front of him, the lenses of his suit open wide. "Peter?" He asked again, hoping and praying but not daring to believe...he seemed different. Taller?

And then the mask disappeared.

The man stared at him with huge, disbelieving eyes, one of which was swelling shut. He had blood caked under his nose, and a cute running across his cheek. His eyes were red-rimmed, and Tony didn't know if it was from crying or the smoke in the air. He moved with a slight limp, and he held himself stiffly upright...but his eyes didn't leave Tony for what felt like hours.

Finally, he spoke, his voice so familiar and yet just a little different. A little deeper. "Mr. Stark?" It was asked with the same incredulous desperation that Tony was feeling and he nodded, ignoring the tears that filled his eyes.

"Yeah...yeah, buddy."

And then the boy...the young man in front of him seemed to break, a sob bursting out of him, and Tony met him in the middle, catching him before he could fall. "Peter…". He whispered, the word almost a question, and Peter nodded against his shoulder. "Wha...how long…"

"Five years…". Peter sobbed, fingers gripping the back of Tony's armor and probably denting it. "I...it took me five years!" Tony shook his head, not sure what to make of that. "You all disappeared and we…"

Just then, Falcon appeared, wings folding as he landed beside them. "You need to get to medical, kid. We've got this handled. Happy is waiting to drive you both to the tower. Apparently Pepper is there. She got snapped too." He told Tony, nodding hello, then reaching out to slap Steve on the shoulder. In the distance, Tony thought he could see Bucky Barnes walking their way….but all he could think about was the boy in his arms.

No...it had been five years. Peter was... twenty-one? Twenty-two? It seemed ridiculous. He'd just seen him and he'd been seventeen!

Peter sobbed in his arms, holding him like he was afraid that Tony was going to disappear, and as much as Tony didn't want to leave the embrace, he had to make sure his kid was okay. . "Hey…let's go see Happy about that ride, huh?"

He took a deep, shuddering breath, then nodded. "Yeah. But...but I ought to help here…"

"No way, kid. You're sticking with me." Tony told him, needing to keep the kid in his line of sight least he age another five years when Tony's back was turned. Plus, he didn't like how stiffly Peter was standing which usually indicated broken ribs. "Come on. Let's find that car. I want to see if Happy has gray hair."

Peter gave an incredulous laugh, tears still falling from the corners of his eyes, and Tony gripped his shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

"It took me five years. I...I never thought...I didn't think I could fix it, Mr. Stark. I never thought I'd get to…". He broke off, closing his eyes and reaching up to grip Tony's hand on his shoulder. "I never thought I'd see you again."

"You did it, Pete," Tony assured him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leading him toward what he hoped was the road. "I don't know how you did it, and I want to hear the whole story, but first, I want to get you to medical, I want to see Pepper, and I want an American cheeseburger."

Peter finally laughed at that, pressing himself closer to Tony for just a moment.

Happy didn't have any gray hair, but he did throw his arms around Tony the second he saw him, the, surprisingly, he grabbed Peter by the shoulders, giving him a serious look. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, Hap. I'm fine."

"We're getting you looked at just in case."

Peter and Tony both climbed into the backseat, and as much as Tony wanted to ask him a thousand questions, he held off, instead putting his arm around Peter who practically curled into his side, his head resting on Tony's shoulder.

"I missed you...so much." He whispered as Happy pulled onto the main road.

"It was only a few minutes to me, but I missed you too buddy."

The kid laughed a little at that, but before long, his breathing evened out, and Tony shifted him a little so that his head was in his lap, fingers trailing through the boy's hair.

Happy let his eyes in the rearview mirror and smiled a little.

"Five years?" Tony asked in a whisper. Happy nodded.

"Almost. He turns twenty-two in three months." Tony shook his head...that didn't seem possible.

"What...what happened?"

His old friend shook his head. "I don't even know where to start. Hell...I thought he was dead or gone...so did his aunt. Then, three weeks after the snap, he comes back with Carol Danvers and the blue alien lady. half-dead and starving...took him days to recover. And then...then he pretty much moved into the compound. Quit going to school for a long time...barely graduated. He just...he wouldn't stop trying to figure out how to bring everyone back. How to bring you back."

Tony swallowed hard, bringing a hand up and rubbing Peter's back as he slept.

"The ant guy was helping him on and off...Sam and Bucky checked on him, but they were trying to put the world back together. And...well, since his aunt and me got married I just…"

"Wait...what?" Tony asked, a smile growing on his face. "You and May?"

"Peter's niece is due any week now." Happy told him with a proud grin…but it dropped after a moment. "He didn't tell her...didn't tell May that he was doing this. He just got the Avengers together. Did this whole 'time heist' thing..."

"Time heist?"

"Yeah...the kid invented time travel to get you back."

That was all Tony could take. It was too much, and Happy seemed to know it. "We can get you caught up later. Just...he missed you, Tony. He missed you so much and...it was hard on him. He pulled away from everyone and...hell, he didn't go to college. Didn't talk to anyone. Just worked almost non-stop for five years."

When they arrived at the tower, Pepper raced out to see him, and he opened his arms, not standing as she hugged him for a moment, then stared down at Peter.

"They told me it had been five years, but…". She shook her head. "I just...I can't believe it."

"Tell me about it." He murmured, looking down at the boy who was sound asleep on his leg.

"Is he okay?"

"He's had a long day." Happy told them, sounding almost rueful. "Kid hasn't slept in at least three days…maybe he'll listen to you."

Tony shook his head, a sad, fond smile turning his lips. "Alright, buddy. Let's get you inside, huh?" He asked, shaking Peter's shoulder a little. The kid muttered, then jumped away, eyes immediately seeking Tony.

"Mr. Stark?" He asked, and Tony knew that fear in his eyes all too well.

"Yeah, Pete. It's me. Why don't we head inside, and then you can go back to sleep."

It was a testament to how exhausted the kid was that he just nodded, letting his eyes shut even as Tony helped him out of the car, careful of what he suspected were broken ribs. Pepper got on his other side, and Peter smiled at her, letting her wrap his arms around him and hold him close. "I missed you." He whispered, and she put a hand on the back of his head for a moment.

"I missed you too, sweetheart."

Once inside, Peter was directed to a bed where he was given an x-ray by a doctor that Tony sort of recognized, then given some pain medicine and told to rest. He was drifting off, struggling to keep his eyes open, and Tony patted his hand as he took a seat beside him. "Why don't you get some rest, bud. We can talk when you wake up." Peter just stared at him, fear in his eyes, and Tony softened. "I'll still be here, Pete."

"What if it's a dream?" Peter asked, eyes wet. "Mr. Stark...I've had this dream before."

Tony shook his head, squeezing Peter's hand. "Not a dream, Pete. I promise." The kid closed his eyes, lips trembling, and Tony leaned over, putting a careful hand on his shoulder. He was sure Peter was covered in bruises...the kid had been in a battle that Tony hadn't even seen, but he had seen the aftermath.

"But...if it is…"

"Look at me, kiddo." He murmured, and Peter did. His face was different. There was stubble on his jaw, and his cheek bones stuck out more, as if he hadn't been eating. But his eyes were the same. The same eyes that Tony had known so well. "This is not a dream. You're exhausted, though, and you need to rest. And when you wake up, I want to know all about what you've been up to for five years."

"I love you." Peter blurted the words, closing his eyes and letting a tear escape. "I love you so much. I had to get you back...I had to."

The words felt awkward and heavy on his tongue...they weren't words that he used often. But he felt them, and so he leaned over, pressing his lips to Peter's hair, then pulling the blankets up and tucking the twenty-one year old like he was five. "I love you too, Pete."

And, just as promised, when Peter woke, Tony was still there.

_ **Thank you for reading!** _


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